They All Lived Story 59: On the Road to Shamballa
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: March-May 1976. A time of growth and change in the extended Elric family. A girl with a mysterious past leads Edward, Alphonse, and others on an adventure to discover the answers to questions long left unanswered.
1. Chapter 1

**March 5****th****,**** 1976**

"He's such a beautiful baby, Art," Winry cooed as she cradled her newest great-grandson in her arms. The newborn squeaked slightly, but was mostly asleep now that the drama of birth was behind him. "They've all been."

"Must be the genes," Reichart teased, though his tired smile was busting with pride as he looked at his second son… his third child.

"Well that's true," Winry acknowledged, smiling back. "Your father was a handsome little guy, as were all of you boys. I can't speak for Ed. I'm afraid he's too old for me to remember that far back."

"What do you mean _I'm_ too old?" Ed joined them, leaning over Winry's shoulder for a good look. They were all standing in Reichart and Deanna's living room; the mid-morning sunlight spilling across the floor.

"Just what I said," Winry smiled sweetly.

To his credit, Ed didn't point out that they were almost exactly the same age. Instead, he shrugged. "Mom always told me Al and I were the cutest babies ever. So it would stand to reason that the rest of the family would be just as cute, right?"

"Of course." Winry looked down at Cailean, who seemed quite happy in his great-grandmother's arms. "How's Deanna?"

"Doing fine, as usual." Reichart's proud face beamed even more. "I don't know how she does it, but she's so calm about the whole thing."

"Well it's already old hat, right?" Ed commented with a smug grin.

Reichart chuckled, not looking at all embarrassed. "Well, there is that."

Given they already had three, and Rhiana was only going to be four in June, Winry could only shake her head in wonder, and hope Deanna and Reichart had really thought it all through. Of course, they had said from the beginning they were looking forward to kids, and if anyone could manage them cheerfully and efficiently, it was Deanna. Rhiana was three-and-three-quarters, and little Owen was just a little further than that from being two, but Deanna always had time to take care of her toddlers, and still help out a little around her parents' Dairy Farm and take care of her house.

Winry was almost envious. Not that she felt she and Ed had lacked anywhere in their two-working-parent household, but Winry could remember a few days she had –never seriously- wondered if Sara, and Aldon, and Ethan were going to survive until dinner. Though she had always decided that they were worth all the trouble of birthing them. "I hope you appreciate how fortunate you two are," she commented with a gentle smile.

"Oh I do," Reichart assured her with a very firm nod. "Trust me."

Winry smiled, and reluctantly gave the baby back up to his father's arms. "Does that mean you're still planning on more?"

"This takes planning?" Reichart asked, grinning as he gathered his youngest in his arms.

"Take that as a yes," Ed quipped.

Winry elbowed her husband in the ribs. "Well I wish we could spend more time with him while he's this tiny."

"Oh it wouldn't be fair to hog you." Reichart smiled. "I think Trisha would like to have you around too."

"I know Sara will," Winry chuckled. Her daughter was no more ready to be a grandmother than Winry had felt when Aldon had called and told them he and Cassie were expecting. Even though Trisha and Roy had been married for two-and-a-half years, the entire thing still seemed a bit hectic every time Winry talked to Sara on the phone. Winry suspected that might just be her daughter. Though reports said Roy had turned into a fussy mother hen, which was driving Trisha a little nuts too. "This trip is as much for pleasure as business."

"I still can't believe you're doing it."

"Well it's about time I did," Winry replied, trying to sound calmer than she felt inside. When they went to Resembool next week, the primary reason was to sign the paperwork that would give Coran and Gale official control of the business end of Rockbell Auto-mail. While Winry knew they would still consult her on everything for years to come, it was so very difficult to retire even that much. She would still make auto-mail. She couldn't imagine not making and designing it, but the running of the business would no longer be hers to stress over. In some ways, it was a liberating thought, and in others, sort of scary.

"Definitely," Ed agreed, his arms sliding around her waist from behind and he pulled her close. "It means I'll get to spend even more time with you."

"I thought you were trying to talk her into this," Reichart quipped.

Ed glared at his grandson for several seconds even as Winry chuckled. Then he laughed too. "You're getting too smart for your own good. About time. You've got to be able to keep a step ahead of the next generation."

**March 6****th****, 1976 **

"Are you really sure you want to do this?" Sara asked with an exasperated expression as Ian finished tossing his books and magazines in a box. She still wasn't sure she believed Ian's announcement that morning that he had found a great apartment and was moving half way across town that afternoon.

"Absolutely," Ian nodded firmly as he closed the box and slapped on some packing tape. "Think about it, Aunt Sara. I'm in and out at all sorts of odd hours with my shooting schedule. I'm not in school anymore. There's no reason you should have to put up with the chaos. Besides, there are half a dozen other actors who work at the studio regularly living in this apartment complex. I won't have to borrow your car or hitch a ride with you anymore. It's within easy bussing of the studio if I can't catch a ride too. I haven't spent hardly any of the money I've made so far, so I can afford it. It's cheap."

Sara had already heard the total. It was more than reasonable, and the complex in question wasn't a high rent area, but it also wasn't considered unsafe. Besides, Ian could take care of himself. Still, after having him here for the last couple of years, it was difficult to watch him moving out so quickly. And, she had to admit, Sara wasn't entirely sure that a healthy part of his decision was that Ian was tired of having to answer for his whereabouts every time he came home. Yes, he had a busy work schedule, but that was also augmented by a healthy dose of personal life. His own place meant not having to ask to bring a date over, and not having to worry if he changed his mind and stayed out late.

He wasn't her son, and Sara couldn't very well tell the almost-nineteen-year-old that he _wasn't_ allowed to do what he wanted, but that didn't mean she liked it.

"I know," she finally replied, "I'm just not sure this is the best idea. Have you talked to your parents about it?"

"Yeah, I mentioned it to Dad," Ian replied with a casual shrug. "He seemed okay with it."

Probably giving in to the inevitable. Well, Sara could only hope that Ian, somehow, had a little more common sense than Aldon had had at that age. Given he wasn't madly in love with anyone, Ian might actually be a little better off. "I wish you'd given us more notice," Sara finally said. "But I hope it works out."

Ian paused long enough to turn and smile at her. "Thanks, Aunt Sara. And I'm sorry I didn't. The opening came up without warning, but it's perfect timing really. We're doing a bunch of night scenes coming up, and we'll be shooting outdoors. If you want to come over and see the place sometime, you're all welcome to come over."

"Nice to know we aren't being alienated," Sara quipped, before yanking her nephew close in an impulsive hug that threatened to crunch his ribs… entirely on purpose.

"Not… at all," Ian grunted, but he returned the brief hug. "I know James won't miss me keeping him up till three in the morning practicing lines in my room."

"Oh you might be surprised," Sara replied. "Just stay out of trouble okay?"

Ian's grin was not at all reassuring. "Trouble? Come on. I don't know the meaning of the word."

* * *

Ian looked around his new apartment with a feeling of exhilaration, coupled with a subtle undertone of still dissipating disbelief. It hadn't taken much time to move at all, all things considering, once a couple of his friends from the set showed up to help. And now almost everything he owned in the world –which he had to admit wasn't all that much- was unloaded and mostly unpacked. He'd had to pick up a few things for the place like dishes, linens for the bed and stuff like that, but it wasn't a huge amount all things considered, and he thought the place looked pretty good.

It wasn't a big apartment, not at the price he was paying for it, but it worked. The place only had three rooms; a bathroom, a bedroom that wasn't much bigger than a walk in closet, and a combination living room and kitchenette.

What it did have, was reasonably high ceilings and the far wall of the living area was nothing but to-the-ceiling high windows that let in a lot of light and had a great view of the park across the street, giving the illusion of being somewhere other than the middle of Central. It was also a top-story corner apartment, which meant while he had to worry about his neighbors below and next door, he didn't have anyone above him or on the other side.

The walls were a faded, pale green color that Ian was sure had once been painfully vivid. He was already thinking about painting, but he had no idea when he would have time. At this point, he was just glad he had managed to pick up a second hand bed and mattress off a friend. He was definitely going to have to hit a few thrift stores or yard sales to see if he could find some good, comfy furniture. Ian supposed he could go to a store and buy new, but he couldn't see the need to spend the money for a spotless new sofa when all he was going to do was have friends pile in to hang out and eat and play cards and maybe watch TV.

That was another perk of the apartment complex. They had actually had all the apartments wired for television. Ian had a second-hand set for that too, so he could keep up with what was on TV, what was popular, and just keep abreast of news and the acting market.

Yes, it would need decorating to make it homey, but it was all his space to do with however he wanted. It was a new but very appealing reality.

It was all his. No one to tell him to clean up, or where to put things. He could keep his dishes in whichever cabinet made the most sense to him, not his aunt. He could come and go at whatever hour worked for him, as long as he wasn't late for a rehearsal or an audition or filming. He could spend his money however he wanted, as long as he had enough for rent, bills, and what he knew was going to be a very steep food budget. He had shot up multiple inches in the past couple of years, and while his height seemed to have finally stabilized, he was often ravenous and just keeping weight on could be a challenge. Ian had thanked Grandpa Ed more than once for the _fabulous_ metabolism he had inherited.

With the unpacking done, Ian found himself with a particular quandary; what to do with himself right then. He had already shared the moving with his friends, but now he was alone, really alone, for the first time ever in some ways. He had never lived in a house with less than four people in it. And while the apartment building was hardly empty, it wasn't the same as sharing space.

Ian had the urge to call someone. His hand was on the phone, dialing before he had even realized consciously who he wanted to call.

The phone on the other line rang three times before it picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey, 'Rey." Ian grinned, glad to hear his brother's voice. "How's it going?" He was glad he'd managed to actually catch his brother, who was in his second year at ECU and often busy.

"Good," Urey replied. Behind him, Ian could pick up the sounds of other people speaking.

"Am I interrupting a party?" Ian teased, though his curiosity was piqued.

"Only if a study session counts," Urey chuckled.

"I hear women."

"Girls go to college too, Ian."

"And they're in your room?"

"More than half the class is women," Urey's tone made it clear he wasn't entirely amused. "I thought it would be fun to take a class on Ancient and Modern Comparative Ethics. You'd be surprised how many women are into that kind of thing."

Ian had to admit, he was. He'd never thought about it. "Are they cute?"

"Do you ever think about anything else?"

"Food."

"I've missed you, Ian." Urey chuckled softly. "Word from Mom is you're getting your own place."

"Wow, word travels fast." Ian shook his head. "I just finished moving in actually. Whole place, all to myself."

"Is it bigger than our old bedroom?"

"Slightly."

"Then it's bigger than my dorm room," Urey sounded amused. "I'll have to come crash at your place next time we're in Central then. It'll be less crazy than anywhere else."

"Yeah well, you'd better wait until I have furniture if you don't want the floors," Ian warned in good nature. "I'm not sharing the bed."

"Second spot already reserved?"

Ian paused a moment. He hadn't expected that kind of quip from Urey. He didn't sound angry though just… questioning? Expectant? "Not at the moment," he finally replied, trying to keep the reply casually flippant. "Why? You scored lately?" He winced at his own voice. He hadn't meant to sound challenging.

Thankfully, Urey just laughed. "Sure have."

"_What?_" Ian almost dropped the phone in shock.

"I scored 100% on all my midterm exams," Urey finished, still chuckling.

"That's not funny."

"I think it's hilarious," Urey replied. "Come on, Ian. In all seriousness, I've had a few dates, but that's about it. I don't have time for much else anyway. Neither do half the girls I like hanging out with."

"So what's the topic under discussion currently in your Ethics class?" Ian asked, honestly curious but trying to shift the conversation.

Urey snickered. "Male and female equality."

**March 12****th****, 1976**

"Brrr, it's chilly!" Winry commented, grateful for her warm winter coat and fur-lined hat as she and Ed stepped out of the Central train station.

"Always nice to be back in Central, isn't it?" Ed grinned and kissed her exposed cheek. "Makes a guy grateful for the improvements in weather-protection considerations in auto-mail."

"Well it's nice to know my work is appreciated," Winry smiled, feeling a little better. Ed had been making little comments like that a lot lately, and she knew it was his way of helping her be all right with this business decision. Winry knew it was the right thing to do, but that didn't make it easy. Granny Pinako had worked, and run, Rockbell Auto-mail well into old age.

And yet, Winry had to remember that Granny hadn't been that much older than she was when Winry had gone to Central, and a lot of the business growth had been her doing, not Granny's. Now, Winry wondered at the fact that Granny had never once complained. Slowly, much less officially before her death, Rockbell Auto-mail had shifted more and more into Winry's hands.

Winry preferred to do the official transfer while she was still healthy and very much alive. That, and it had grown so much and the times had changed even more. There was a lot more to do to make the legal change properly.

"So where's our chauffeur?" Ed teased, setting both of their suitcases down on the ground.

"Be patient. I'm sure she's coming," Winry scolded without any real bite. "Sara promised she'd be here. If she's late, it's because someone at Central HQ is screwing up and needs to be put in their place."

"Probably a student," Ed grinned. "I knew her transfer over to education and training was a good idea."

"She's certainly happy there," Winry agreed. Her daughter loved to growl about –and gloat over- the quality of her students, both State Alchemists and potentials taking the classes in the hopes of passing the State Alchemy Exam. "Just the same way you and Al were."

"There are days I miss it."

"Hey, you still have students!"

Winry turned and smiled at her grandson as Ted, hauling another couple of suitcases, huffed up behind them and looked at Ed with consternation.

"Really mouthy ones," Ed grinned at Ted, who had begged to come along to Central and had gotten permission from his parents only by getting all the school work for months ahead from his teachers, and swearing to send it all back. Fortunately at least the first week of his trip was spring break, so that was some work he wouldn't be missing.

"So really, nothing's changed."

"And there's my other one proving my point." Ed turned and Winry did too, seeing Sara coming through the parking lot, still dressed from HQ, looking professional, but smiling.

"I get paid to be mouthy," Sara pointed out with a wink. She grabbed a suitcase. "I've come to understand why you were so good at this job, Dad."

"Are we going to quip all afternoon or are you just waiting for my nose to fall off?" Winry asked, shivering slightly as she cut off the playful banter. "You can make jokes in the car."

"She's right, of course," Ed backed her up, and soon they were trucking through the parking lot and piling into Sara's car.

"So how's Trisha doing?" Winry asked curiously as they pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards Sara and Franz's house. "And Roy?"

"About ready to drive us all batty?" Sara suggested with a sigh and a shake of her head. "I think I'm glad I'm not working my old job right now. Roy's jumpy as a frog, and Trisha's been relegated to office work until she takes leave. Their place is about as ready as it's going to be, and I know they're excited, but now that it's almost here I think they're both a little overwhelmed with the imminence of the whole thing."

"So par for the course," Ed commented. "But there's no real reason for alarm right? You said Trisha was doing just fine."

"She is," Sara assured them. "No complications whatsoever. They're just young, and it's going to majorly change their lives just as it does everyone else's."

Winry could agree with the truth in both halves of that statement. They were young, younger than Sara or Ethan had been certainly. Though a little older, more settled, and this was definitely more planned than Coran had been for Aldon and Cassie. But both being state alchemists, it would be more like Sara and Franz's life challenges. "How long is Trisha planning to stay home with the baby?"

"She hasn't decided," said Sara. "Mostly because she isn't sure that she won't discover she wants more time off. She's being smart and waiting and seeing how things go the first couple of months before deciding if she wants to trust the baby to someone else's care."

"Fortunately she's got aunts and an uncle who would make good babysitters." Winry doubted Roy's sisters were babied-out enough by their little sister to not want to take on that job, and even James worked occasional baby-sitting jobs. Winry knew Tore and Charisa used him regularly to watch over their two little boys when they wanted to go out and didn't want to just dump them on Breda all the time.

"And Grandmothers who want their turn as well," Sara admitted, though she twitched.

"Something wrong?" Winry asked, though she had a good hunch.

"I'm not old enough for this," Sara admitted, smiling ruefully. "I'm happy to agree that they are, but that doesn't mean I am!"

Winry laughed. "I felt exactly the same way when all of you started having children. Though by the time Ethan got there I was well used to enjoying and indulging my grandchildren."

"You're indulgent?" Ted snorted from the back. "I'd hate to see what you call strict grand-parenting."

Winry turned her head enough to grin at the men in the back seat. "Yes, yes you would."


	2. Chapter 2

**March 13****th****, 1976**

The little brown-haired girl cooed up at Tore as he took her, and his heart melted, just as it had the first time he and Charisa had been introduced to her three weeks ago. The now eight-month old girl had her own sad story, like every orphan. According to the department, her mother had died in childbirth and, with a father nowhere to be found and no living relatives to contact, the baby had been put into the orphanage from the day she left the hospital.

Tore could not imagine how anyone else could have left her there, having met her. Dark downy hair already formed ringlets, and still-blue eyes that hadn't shifted color at all and might not. Despite the circumstances she had a ready smile and calm personality, especially for an infant.

"She recognizes you," Charisa smiled at him.

"That's good," Tore chuckled as the baby reached a hand up and poked his nose, "Since she's coming home with us." Tore could not recall when, exactly, he had become a willing participant in adopting a third child, except that he knew that Charisa had wanted another, even after they agreed that after the difficulties of birthing Brandon, they should try not to get pregnant again.

And holding their new little girl in his arms, Tore had no regrets. He was excited, and Charisa's beaming face was worth it. Even Dare was excited, even though his new sibling was a sister. Brandon wasn't really old enough to feel strongly about it, but the boys had met her on their previous visit, when they definitively decided she was the right addition to their family.

"Ready to go?" Charisa asked. "There's only a little paperwork left. We might as well get it over with."

"There's always paperwork," Tore groaned. Even after the official papers for the adoption, there always seemed to be one more thing; medical records releases and the like. "Can't I just sit here with her while you go finish up?"

"If we could just one of us do it I'd be fighting you for the privilege," Charisa pointed out. "Come on." She tugged on his arm and then moved past him towards the door of the sitting room.

"All right." Tore turned towards the door himself, to head back to the main office.

"Oh! Are you the one adopting her, Mr. Closson?"

Tore paused, and looked hard at the young woman that had just come into the room, looking at him curiously. She was a petite brunette, with a short, asymmetrical haircut; cute for her age, and vaguely familiar. "I'm sorry. Where do I know you from?" he asked apologetically.

"Oh, sorry. I know James Heimler," the girl replied, "From school. And I have Mrs. Elric for World Literature. I'm Krista Dumais."

That was where Tore had seen her before. "That explains it then," he smiled. "So do you volunteer here, Krista?"

At her embarrassed expression, Tore suddenly wished he hadn't asked, but Krista met his eyes as she said softly. "Actually, I've been here for about two weeks. My grandma died, and she was who I was living with. I don't have any other family so… here I am." She shrugged and managed a subtle smile anyway. "But I really like the little kids, so it's not so bad."

She was certainly taking her situation better than Tore had his, but then Krista had to be at least fourteen or fifteen if she knew James from school. That also made her well older than Tore had been. Still, to lose her only living relative; that was something Tore understood only too well. "I'm sorry to hear that," he replied quietly. "So you don't have a foster family yet?"

"Not yet." Krista shook her head. "They've asked around, but it seems there's not a lot of places open for teenage girls."

"So where have you been staying?"

"At the Central Orphanage."

Camelia in his arms, unaware of the seriousness of the situation, focused her eyes on Krista and smiled and cooed. Clearly, she was used to the older girl.

Tore found himself seized by both a crazy idea, and an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. "Are you still going to school?"

"Yes. I'm still going to class every day," Krista nodded. "I'd hate to get behind. My teachers have been really nice about it since I missed a few days at first while I got Grandma's burial arranged. She left money for it, thankfully, and her house, but they told me they didn't want me living alone there, so the officers brought me here. But... it's not really something I've spread around school," she added.

Tore wondered if Lia was one of the teachers who knew the situation. He suspected not, or it probably would have come up in a dinner conversation at Ethan and Lia's house. _Or maybe not._

At that moment, one of the case workers came into the room and waved at Krista, who nodded and turned back to him. "It was nice to see you Mr. Closson. Take good care of her for me, okay? She's one of the sweetest babies I've ever met." Then she turned and hurried off.

"Tore?" Charisa stepped back into the room. "Are you coming or not?"

"Oh, sorry." Tore nodded and turned back to his wife. "I just met one of James' classmates here. She's looking for a foster home."

Charisa gave him a look that went from surprised to knowing. "You want to offer to foster her, don't you?"

"I know it would be absolutely crazy, with the boys, and Camelia," Tore admitted. "And Dad and the cat and everything, but she's a nice girl, and her grandmother just died leaving her without anywhere to go. I'm just saying, I'd like to consider it. We should talk to the office."

Charisa looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. "We can at least ask about it."

* * *

Dare and Brandon were in real danger of rendering Grandpa unconscious before their parents got home. Or at least, that's how it felt to Heymans Breda, who had been corralling his rambunctious grandsons ever since Charisa and Tore left to finish the paperwork and bring home their new little girl.

Breda was excited about the prospect as well, especially since it was a far safer alternative than Charisa dealing with another potentially high-risk pregnancy and delivery, and it continued a tradition on both sides of the family now; adopting and taking care of kids who really needed a home. He had always been very happy that he and Nancy had decided to adopt Charisa and Niam, being too old by then to have their own naturally. And he knew that Ed and Winry did not regret fostering Tore, despite the headaches he had put them _all _through in his youth.

Dare, all nine-and-a-half years of him, was staring intently out the window from his couch perch, his book forgotten on the cushion next to him. Brandon, being three, wasn't even trying to pay attention. He just kept jumping around the living room grinning and alternating between "Sister's coming! Melia's coming!" and trying to convince Rapscallion to play with him instead of sprawling in a sunbeam. The old cat was too lazy to move.

Breda certainly hoped that Camelia enjoyed life with her new older brothers! For his part, Breda was looking forward to having a little girl in the house again.

"They're here!" Dare bounced off the couch and ran to the door.

Finally the door jingled as keys opened the lock, and the door swung open. Charisa came in first, carrying Camelia, and smiling as the boys swarmed them both. Breda gave them room. He didn't need to get run over!

Then Tore came in, carrying a carrier, and a diaper bag. "This is the place," he commented, which Breda found on odd statement until another person, a teenage girl carrying a suitcase, followed them through the door, and nudged it closed behind her.

"And who's this?" Breda asked, hoping he sounded more curious than rude.

Charisa and Tore shared a glance before Tore was apparently elected to speak. "This is Krista Dumais. Her grandmother passed away recently, and she needs somewhere to stay."

He didn't have to say more for Breda to infer the likely rest. The girl was a fosterling and a teenager; a tough combination. Though she stood, quiet and politely, waiting for him to say something.

Breda smiled at her. "Welcome, Krista. I hope you like it here."

The pretty young woman smiled, tentatively at first, then warming slowly. "Thank you, Sir. I'm really very grateful you're all willing to take me in. Not a lot of families want mostly-grown strangers living with them."

Breda glanced at his daughter and her husband. "Didn't you tell her?"

"Tell me what?" Krista looked confused.

Tore smiled first, a little abashed. "We hadn't gotten to that part of the conversation." He turned to Krista. "What he means is that Charisa and I know, first hand, what you're going through, though we weren't your age at the time. The Elrics took me in as a foster when I was eleven."

"And my brother and I were adopted," Charisa chimed in as she sat down on the couch so the boys could crowd around without threatening to pull the baby right out of her arms. Camelia, for her part, was giggling at the boys' antics. "I was three. Niam was just a little older than Camelia."

A look of understanding dawned on Krista's face, and then there was a note of relief. "I see now. That makes sense. I admit… I was a little nervous. I'm not used to charity."

"And this won't be charity," Tore assured her, grinning. "Not with three kids in the house who always need something done. How do you feel about babysitting?"

"I love kids!" Krista beamed, relaxing further.

"That's good," Breda chuckled deeply. "You'll get to see a lot of them around here."

"We're going to give her the spare room upstairs," Charisa spoke up as the boys finally quieted down enough to really take notice of the stranger amongst them. "You don't mind helping us get it set up this afternoon, do you?"

As if he had a choice? Breda shook his head. "I don't mind. It's not like there's a whole lot in there." It was half occasional-guest room, half storage room. With Dare and Brandon in Niam's old room, and little Camelia's newly refurbished space being Charisa's childhood room, Breda was suddenly grateful that he hadn't moved into a smaller place after Nancy passed away. And that he and Nancy hadn't downsized before that, when the kids moved out. "Do you have more stuff than that?" he asked Krista curiously, looking at her one bag.

Krista nodded. "Actually, I do. I still have everything from my room, and Grandma left everything she had to me, even the house. The state just has a problem with me living alone before I'm eighteen."

"Annoying that way, aren't they?" Breda smiled. "Well lucky for us, to have you here."

"Once we have the room set up, we'll go over and get anything you want from the other house then," Tore offered. "Do you still have a key?"

Krista nodded. "I do, and thank you. I appreciate it."

* * *

Somehow the old house just never seemed too crowded, Ed thought as he looked around the living room of the Central House, which was crammed full of extended family for a nice Sunday dinner and impromptu reunion.

And somehow, as much as people changed, there were things that still remained the same. This time, however, Ed couldn't help but be struck by several things, like how fast the kids seemed to grow. Had they always grown that fast? And the changing of the generations as kids he remembered as little, were parents, or grandparents.

Tore and Charisa's new adopted daughter was, for the moment, the youngest child in the family in Central. Coran and Gale's little son, Gavin, was nineteen months old. But after that, the ages went up quickly. Brandon was three. Aeddan was four. Charlie was five, and his sister Gloria had just turned eight! Kamika was almost eight. Dare was nine. It still boggled Ed a little that Eamon and Lily were ten. Though to him, the funnier part was the fact that the generations were starting to overlap where the children born to those parents who had married later, might be younger than the children of their own older cousins. The oldest kid present was Michio at twelve.

Well, unless Ed counted the teenagers. James was fifteen, and so was the new foster girl that Tore and Charisa had brought with them. But more importantly, today was, in fact, Ted's fourteenth birthday! And there was, without fail, a huge cake that Gracia had whipped up in honor of the occasion as the centerpiece of the dessert table. It was Ted's favorite –triple chocolate with piles of buttercream icing.

The birthday boy, for his part, was taking the many comments about how grown up he was getting in stride. Ed was impressed. The kid was exhibiting more patience and good grace than he had expected on that score. Maybe it was because Ted wasn't getting comments on how short he was, even though he wasn't much taller than Ed had been at that age. At which point, Ed began to suspect that really, his family had just learned what buttons not to press… finally.

He looked around the room, his trained ears catching snippets of conversation, and his eyes taking in everyone enjoying themselves. It was a little odd not to see Lia's mother, as used to having her around as Ed had actually gotten when they visited. Ethan had told him that his mother-in-law was actually out of town this month, visiting a friend back down in South City, but would be back in a couple of weeks.

As he looked, it occurred to Ed that there was one Central Elric missing. "Where's Ian?"

"Talking to yourself again, Dad?" Ethan asked, appearing beside him. "You know people will talk."

Ed snickered. "People always talk. No, I'm just good enough to tell when you're about to materialize beside me and respond."

"Of course." Ethan chuckled. "How could I ever forget? Anyway, you asked about Ian. He's filming tonight, so he couldn't make it."

"They've really got him on a busy schedule, don't they?" After graduating high school, Ian's schedule seemed to have gotten much busier, rather than lighter. Of course, Ed figured, for an actor that was a good thing. On top of his steady starring gig on _Amestris High_, Ian had played one or two-episode parts on four other shows in the past year, and Ed had seen him in at least a dozen commercials; All product placement deals with companies who had a relationship with the production company doing _Amestris High. _

"His hours are almost as bad as mine sometimes," Ethan nodded. "At least most of mine are daylight and weekdays these days unless there's an emergency or a birth. His schedule is packed and doesn't abide by the regular ideas of work at all. I swear, even when he's not filming he's rehearsing, or going in for a costume fitting, or doing an interview."

"Or at a party?"

Ethan eyed him, though more curious than wary at Ed's neutral tone. "Is Aldon still freaking out about… no, nevermind. I don't need to ask that do I?"

Ed shook his head. "He's just worried Ian will do something in the heat of a moment that he'll regret or, at the very least, have to live with the rest of his life. It _would_ be carrying on a time honored family tradition." He looked back at Ethan. "How do you think he's doing?"

"Ian? Honestly, I think he's okay," Ethan replied. "I saw a lot of guys do a lot of stupid things in college. They partied. Drank too much. Slept with their girlfriends… and most of them still turned out okay, got married, started families, and without any major regrets. While we've known plenty of guys that wasn't so easy for, they aren't the majority."

Ed could think of a lot of guys who fell into that latter category. "So you don't think Ian's in the second group."

"I think he's smarter than that. He's pretty good at taking a longer view of things when he wants to. He's got to if he wants to make it in the business he's chosen. He made it through high school, with good grades, while working, and he works really hard at what he does. I can't fault him for that in the slightest. I know he's been driving Aldon and Sara both a little nuts lately. Moving out was probably smart, even if it was short notice."

"Have you shared this opinion with your brother and sister?"

Ethan laughed and sipped his soda. "Do I look insane?"

* * *

Krista couldn't remember ever being at a house with so many people! Her grandmother had rarely entertained given her often poor health, and Krista had rarely gone to many parties. Even then, they were usually no more than fifteen people.

The fact that she didn't know most of them was nearly overwhelming, except for the saving grace that she did know _some_ of them, if mostly because of school. Mrs. Lia Elric was one of her favorite teachers and Krista had actually been invited by before for study help a couple of times, so the house itself was slightly familiar. When he came home, Dr. Elric was always nice. He had an easy smile and felt utterly non-threatening, in sharp contrast to some of her grandmother's physicians who had been mostly old, stern, and serious.

Then there was James and his family, who she knew a little better since she had known James for three years, since she had come to live with her grandmother. They always had two or three classes together. So they just hung out sometimes, or studied together after school, which was easy since James was a complete bookworm compared to her, and wouldn't do much of anything else until he finished studying.

It sort of made Krista feel guilty for not telling James where she had been living up until today, after her grandmother's death. She suspected her teachers had been informed since none of them had asked, but the school administration certainly knew. It was difficult to talk about still, so she appreciated the lack of awkward questions, but Krista was beginning to think that it might have been better to talk about some of it sooner and avoid even more awkward situations.

Not that she would have expected a different outcome. Why should she? There was much she hadn't ever told anyone, not even her friends, and no reason why one or another of the Elrics would have felt it their place to step in. Mr. and Mrs. Closson's being there, adopting little Camelia, and being willing to take her in was a fortunate coincidence.

Yet the greeting today so far had been universally warm and inviting, but not at all invasive, nor distant; though they seemed to be taking care not to crowd her all at once to make introductions. Which was good since most of the people there were half-way legendary, or walking heroes in the flesh! Krista's father had raised her on tale after tale of the famous Elric Brothers and their exploits.

It was easier, Krista found, not to dwell on that much, but to focus on the people she knew or was getting to know. So for the first part of the evening, she kept close to the Clossons or General Breda, and tried to feel out the situation.

It was hard though, when one of those living legends was right in front of her, cuddling Camelia and cooing over the baby in delight.

"She's a darling," Winry Rockbell Elric smiled from the baby to Mrs. Closson and then to Mr. Closson. The boys had, naturally, vanished into the crowd on arrival.

"It's not like I can take credit for it, but thanks," Mr. Closson chuckled.

"It's not quite like choosing a puppy, Tore," Mrs. Winry Elric agreed, before looking knowingly at Mr. Closson. "But in both cases, you don't always have a whole lot of say in what you get beyond those first early impressions. They don't always tell you how a child will turn out." Mrs. Closson snickered, and Krista realized that her own expression must have been perplexed, because a moment later Winry was looking at _her_ and smiling. "When Tore first came to live with us, he was quite the troublemaker."

"Only at first?" General Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist himself, came out of the crowd and appeared at his wife's side.

"I know, I'm lucky you didn't lock me in my room with the cat till I was forty," Mr. Closson replied to the ribbing with good nature.

"Thank goodness," Mrs. Closson smiled. "Or you'd still be single."

Mr. Closson's arm slid around his wife's waist possessively. "I'd never have survived that long," he swore solemnly.

"Can I hold her?" The Fullmetal Alchemist asked, grinning as his wife handed Camelia over. "She's got to get to know her Grandpa Ed."

Camelia took one look at him then giggled and grabbed at his long, blond bangs.

Somehow he dodged her grasp, laughing. "Aren't you precocious?"

Krista couldn't help a chuckle. "She likes you Mr… General? Elric… Sir." She felt suddenly embarrassed. How should she address him? Or his wife, really? There was more than one Mr. or Mrs. Elric in the room. How formal was he about titles? What if she had offended him!-

The Fullmetal Alchemist was looking _right at her._ For just a moment, Krista couldn't breathe under the gaze of one of the greatest alchemists _ever._

"Mr. Elric is fine, or Grandpa," Ed added with a wink. "Welcome to the chaos. Krista, right? I hear you're really smart."

Krista felt her face turning warm and rosy.

"Oh don't embarrass her, Ed." Winry poked him in the shoulder.

"Greetings and compliments are embarrassing now?"

Winry rolled her eyes. From Mr. Elric's expression, Krista realized finally that he was pressing buttons deliberately; joking around!  
Krista managed to find the courage to smile. "Thank you, Mr. Elric."

She was, however, very grateful when the conversation shifted away from her, and back to Camelia and the boys, and Krista could fade back a little and just listen.

"Excuse me."

Krista turned and found herself facing three girls younger than herself, though they were the oldest girls in the room other than her at the moment who weren't over the age of eighteen. The girl Krista recognized was Lily Elric. The second girl, who looked half-Xingese Krista was able to put a name too as Kamika Elric, just based off conversation and earlier introductions. Beside her, however, was the girl who had spoken. This girl had very carefully brushed, very curly red-brown hair, and was wearing a pretty white knit sweater over a purple top, and a matching pleated purple skirt.

Younger girls were much easier to deal with than adults. Krista smiled. "Yes?"

The little well-dressed girl nodded. "My name is Gloria. It's a pleasure to meet you. Lily says you're nice. Would you like to come play Sugar Castle Quest with us?" She asked politely, but with directness that Krista found amusing.

"I'd love to," she replied, chuckling. "That's one of my favorite board games." And it was certainly easier than making polite conversation with legends for a little while.

* * *

"So do they ever slow down?" Coran commented to Cal with a chuckle as he snagged Gavin two feet from the –well blocked- fireplace, scooping his toddling son into the air and making him laugh as he swung him around once, then set him down going off in a completely different direction.

"No… not a bit," Cal replied, watching Coran's movements and wishing his own son were still that small. "Well, I should say boys don't as far as I can tell. Gloria's got energy, but she's always putting it into something constructive, usually her dance. Charlie is…"

"Rambunctious?" Coran offered.

"I was going to say destructive," Cal admitted. "He loves to take things apart, even when he can't put them back together again. And he's got more curiosity than a zoo full of cats. Seriously, he's into everything, and putting it up doesn't do any good, because I don't think there's anything in the house he can't climb."

Coran shook his head. "Wow. Are you sure you're not exaggerating a little?"

"I-" Cal cut off as he heard a thump and turned around and spotted Charlie half way up the side of the fireplace. A candlestick had already fallen off the top. In three seconds he had crossed the intervening space, grabbed his son by the overalls, and hauled him back down to the floor. Still carrying him, he returned to Coran. "No, definitely not." Disaster averted, he set Charlie down. "Now stop climbing," he scolded, but without much growl. It was a lecture he gave often. "Why don't you go outside with the dog?"

"Sure, Daddy!" Charlie darted off and vanished in a sea of legs.

Cal just hoped that he ended up where he'd sent him, and didn't destroy the garden in the process.

"He'll be fine," Tore commented as he joined them. "Dare and Brandon are already out there."

"Sure, they'll be fine," Coran smiled. "But what about the yard, or the dog?"

"I saw Eamon out there," Tore replied. "I'm pretty sure he won't let anyone destroy his mom's yard, out of survival instinct if nothing else."

Cal nodded. At least there was one young man in the next generation who wasn't inclined towards massive chaos.

* * *

"I can't believe Krista's living with the Clossons!" James commented in disbelief as he watched his friend sitting and playing a board game with his younger cousins.

"Wait, that's Krista like… snowball fights/king of the hill/homework Krista?" Ted looked over at him in surprise, then back at the girl.

Only then did it occur to James that Ted hadn't seen Krista in a couple of years, given how sporadic visits were in both directions. "Yeah, that's her. She told me her grandmother had died, but I didn't realize she didn't have anyone else to live with." A fact that irked James, both that he hadn't realized it and that Krista hadn't told him. If he had known, he was sure he could have talked his parents into volunteering to let her live with them! She could have had Trisha's old room. And then he could have seen her a lot more often.

"Wow," Ted smiled appreciatively. "She's cute!"

Something dark settled in James's stomach as he glanced between Ted and Krista, then shrugged as casually as he could manage. "Yeah, I guess so."

* * *

After dinner Winry wandered out onto her back porch. It was still not really possible for her to think of it any other way. It was _their_ house; hers and Ed's, and all of their family that had blossomed and spread from it. That Ethan and Lia were raising their children in it; that they hadn't sold it was a blessing to her.

Despite the inevitable changes; new flooring, fresh coats of paint, new plants in the yard every few years… it still felt the same. It would always be home.

The biggest change, really, was the kids in the yard. Winry had to look twice more than once to remind her eyes that Eamon wasn't Ethan; Dare wasn't Tore; Gloria wasn't Alyse; even that Gavin wasn't Coran. The second generation to grow up playing in the yard had already begun to sprout a third generation.

It was hard not to feel old, and yet Winry couldn't help thinking how odd it was to be handing the business over to Coran and Gale. She wanted to do it, but it still felt uncomfortably like retirement.

Was this how Ed had felt every time he had almost left the military… right up to the last? It wasn't as if she was giving up designing and making auto-mail though. Still, it felt like it inside if she thought too much about it.

"Gathering thoughts?" Elicia asked as she joined Winry at the deck railing. Her sympathetic smile told Winry that Elicia had probably guessed her thoughts on her expression, if not from experience.

"Feeling nostalgic," Winry admitted, sipping from her nearly forgotten teacup. "It's something I don't indulge in often."

"I try not to do it too much, but lately it can be hard," Elicia nodded. "What's funny is I'm almost never wistful for my early years. I don't miss being a child as much as I used to sometimes. I don't even miss the time before Al and I had children."

"I don't miss those earlier years either," Winry admitted. "They weren't all bad, but they were rough and, it's sort of ironic the huge impact they had, when I think about how small a part of our lives they were now."

Elicia smiled. "I barely remember Al as a suit of armor. He's always human in my memories. And he says he really only remembers that feeling because of the few times he's put himself into other things since then… more like a long ago dream with good detail, but not something immediate."

"I'm glad," Winry smiled back. That would be an awful thing to remember forever, after how lonely Al had told her those times were. "It's much nicer to be able to see the smile on his face."

"Quit talking like old people."

Winry turned her head and smiled at her daughter. "Why? You want to join in?"

Sara shook her head. "Not for another few weeks. Ask me again after that."

"Oh you'll enjoy grandkids," Elicia chuckled. "You get to have fun with them and then send them home again."

Winry's own smile grew smug. "And suddenly, your own children think you were the best, coolest, most knowledgeable parent ever!"

Sara snickered. "Elena and I have a bet going as to which grandmother gets the first panicked middle-of-the-night phone call."

"What does the winner get?" Winry couldn't help asking.

"A full night's sleep," Sara chortled, looking out across the yard full of playing children. "Personally I think it will be Elena that gets the first call, just because I anticipate Roy breaking and calling in a panic before Trisha does."

"Is he really that skittish about this?" Winry had never thought of him as such. Especially not the past few years, as he had grown, matured, experienced hardships and been honed into a confident, capable adult. The boy who had come and lived at their house several summers and learned alchemy from Ed didn't seem like the panic type just because he was a parent. He even had practice with his baby sister.

Sara shrugged. "Okay, I kid him a bit about it. But really, ever since Trisha got pregnant he's been on edge, more than I'd say for some new fathers, even though they claim it's not a huge surprise. He's giving Cal a run for his money on nervous-but-attentive husbands."

"Trisha certainly seems happy about it." Winry had already had a nice chat with her granddaughter about the baby, pregnancy in general, and everything else. Trisha was thrilled that Winry and Ed would still be in Central when it was time for the baby to come.

"Oh she is," Sara agreed. "I'm not saying otherwise. They're both happy about it. I just think that Trisha's the one who talked him into starting now. Not too different, I think, from how she was ready to get married before he was. And I don't think he's willing to do anything to put that kind of a rift between them again." Though she didn't sound like she thought that was really a danger herself. "Lucky for them, she's had it a bit easier than I did."

"If you're talking about me, than your idea of easy needs some reconsideration," Trisha's voice came from the doorway.

"There's no such thing as a private conversation in this house," Sara quipped.

"Of course not," Winry chuckled. "There hasn't been since you were born."

Sara's mouth, open for another comment, closed.

Trisha joined them, looking relaxed and happy. "Wow, Mom, I think this may be the first time I've ever seen you speechless."

Sara mock-glowered at her daughter. "Sometimes it is tactically sound to keep your mouth shut."


	3. Chapter 3

**March 15****th****, 1976 **

"So that's it." Winry looked down at the finished paperwork, all signed, naming Coran and Gale Elric as the primary business owners of Rockbell Auto-mail, alongside her name. There were also the forms that gave them access to the company financial accounts and everything else they would need to run the business in Amestris and internationally. She smiled and held out her hand. "Congratulations."

Coran took her hand, smiling a little abashedly. "Thanks, Grandma. I promise, we'll do things right."

"What he means is if he's not sure what to do, he's going to be calling you at two in the morning to ask about business matters," Gale grinned, taking Winry's hand after Coran finished shaking it. "Thank you, Winry, for trusting us to do this."

"Well there's not much else I can teach you," Winry admitted, feeling a little better now that the deed was done. There was no turning back now without another mess of paperwork to remove them from the business as partners. "You're as ready as you can be."

"And you're still here in case of emergencies. I get it," Coran assured her. "Think of it this way, all it means is that you don't have to mess with boring office work anymore."

"That's what I keep telling her!" Ed grinned, one hand resting on Winry's shoulder. "Somehow she thinks she'll miss it."  
"Some of us had more interesting paperwork," Winry quipped, though she was grateful for her husband's humor at the moment. "So why don't we go celebrate?"

"Dinner's on me." Ed stood up, and offered Winry his hand. "Assuming you have time," he looked up at Coran and Gale.

Their grandson smiled. "Gracia assured us she'd be fine with Gavin for a few hours. I think she was expecting us to be out late. She said something about knowing just what to feed our son tonight."

"Good enough for me," Ed laughed. "Let's go enjoy ourselves."

Winry smiled, though she felt her mood wavering as they left the bank office and strolled down the street. They were only a couple of blocks off the downtown shopping district, which was still packed with restaurants.

"You doing all right?" Ed asked, so softly in her ear Winry doubted anyone could hear over the people going by on the street.

Winry squeezed his arm. "Yeah, so far. It's almost as hard as letting the kids grow up."

"Well you've put as much of your heart into Granny's company, haven't you?"

He'd hit the matter dead center. Winry nodded, and felt a tear wavering in her eye. "Do you think she'd be okay with this?" she asked.

Ed squeezed back. "I think she'd be proud to see the company in the hands of another generation of the family, and she'd be proud of you for having the foresight to make sure everything's on solid ground while we're here as a safety net."

Sometimes, Ed really did know just what to say. While Coran and Gale walked a little ahead, looking at restaurant options, Winry leaned in to kiss her husband's cheek. "I love you."

* * *

"And cut!"

Ian quit gazing intensely up at the sky with a conflicted expression and blinked to get the brilliant light out of his vision that had been shining whitely into his face to fake moonlight. He waited for further instruction.

"That's it for tonight," the director barked out a moment later, and the set burst into low chatter.

Relieved that the performance was acceptable –and that his final scene of the night had been managed in only five takes- Ian made his way over to the rest of the cast, picked up a cup of water, and drained it. "How'd it look?" He asked Reggie, Carmen, and Tina, his three primary co-stars, who hadn't been in the final introspective moment he had just filmed, but had played heavy scenes in the rest of the episode, two of which had been filmed earlier.

Reggie grinned at him. "Deep… really _deep._"

Ian snorted and resisted the urge to dump a cup of water over his friend's head. "I mean it."

"It was fine, Ian," Carmen assured him with a smile. "I'm pretty sure half the girls in Amestris will be dying to offer Logan a hug when that scene cuts to commercial."

"Or more than a hug," Tina chuckled.

"That's the idea," Ian winked at them both and reached for an apple off the table. "Let's get out of wardrobe and call it a day." At only ten at night. "Hey, what do you say we grab drinks on the way back to the Nest? We can hang out at my place."

The Nest was what the actors called the apartment complex where so many of them rented. The real name was Woody View –for being next to a large park- but there was such a variety of mismatched, and not horribly quiet, neighbors, that it was like a flock of unrelated birds all perching in the same apartment building.

"Sounds like a great idea," Reggie agreed. "We can hit a store on the way."

The banter was lighter than usual, if jovial as always. Ian knew that, like him, everyone was having slightly bitter-sweet feelings about the episodes they were filming now. The show's run was coming to an end with the graduation of their characters from Amestris High. The characters were all at a crossroads that had been built to since season one.

Logan and his nemesis, Dennis –Reggie's character- had gone from rivals and competitors to a tentative friendship, to come-to-blows enemies, to romantic rivals, to a deep, if occasionally still fragile friendship that was, at the end of it all, once again threatening to blow up in their faces. So many questions in this episode, and Ian was enjoying the on-screen drama, mostly because the cast had grown close, like family, and none of the bad feelings on screen existed between them off it.  
Carmen and Tina played best friends Malaya and Violet, who had been inseparable for the whole show, with a common dream of traveling abroad together and seeing the world. But many things hung in the balance at this critical juncture, because Dennis and Malaya had been dating in the show for over two years, and Dennis was about to propose marriage, which was going to throw a wrench in the girls' plans. To complicate matters, Violet, who had been tentatively dating Logan since they had gotten together at the very beginning of the season, had been harboring feelings for Dennis ever since season one. Logan found out about this the same day he got a letter offering him a prestigious position as a sports coach at a University in Aerugo, which would destroy the plan Dennis and Logan had hatched to both go professional and start their _own_ team in their hometown, which didn't yet have one.

Thankfully, there hadn't been any conflicting romances between co-stars off camera to complicate matters.

Ian finished changing back into his street clothes and hung up his uniform carefully on the rack. The new costuming assistant would wring his neck if he didn't! She already had a reputation for being picky about wardrobe care.

He found Reggie and the girls waiting outside. Most of the crew was already gone by the time he came out of his dressing room. "Let's go."

"Oh, look, there's Bonnie," Tina commented as they headed for the gates.

Ian turned his head and spotted the new wardrobe assistant whose wrath he was avoiding. She was pretty cute!

"Bonnie!" Tina waved.

The other girl stopped and glanced in their direction.

"You want to join us?" Tina asked.

Bonnie shook her head. "Can't. Class in the morning. Thanks though!"

"All right. See you tomorrow!" Tina called back.

"You know her?" Carmen asked curiously as the four of them kept walking.

"Just from talking during wardrobe changes," Tina replied. "She's from out West somewhere, but she's studying apparel design here on top of work. I guess she's pretty busy."

College and work, Ian had to admit he was impressed.

The all-hours convenience store between the studio and the Nest was the best place for this kind of run, Ian thought, as they piled out of Carmen's car a few minutes later and went inside.

"What about an ice cream cake?" Ian suggested to Reggie as they wandered past the grocery aisles toward beverages. He had happened to spot one, with chocolate crème cookies in it, and it sounded really good tonight.

Reggie grimaced. "I'm not sure I dare, with all the shirtless scenes they've got us doing this season."

"Carrot cake then?" Ian teased, though he gave Reggie a sympathetic look. He was right, of course; they both had a lot more scenes in the locker room this season, or other situations where shirts just weren't always _on_. Ian knew they got away with that more just because their actors were all over eighteen now, but for the most part, so were the characters. The much more heated romantic dynamics definitely played a part. "Or maybe a veggie tray."

"You can eat the cake, I'll take the veggies," Reggie suggested. "Or we could just live off the beer."

"Maybe you can." They came to the drinks and Ian considered the selection. "But I need a little more than that to keep me going." He made his choice, and pulled it out of the cooler.

"You're a human furnace, Ian." Reggie picked his own beer. "You could probably live off _cake_ and look good on screen."

"Until my teeth rotted and my intestines gave up on me." Ian nodded and they rejoined the girls up front.

Carmen eyed Ian's selection with a startled, but appreciative, expression. "You don't have cheap taste do you?"  
Ian shrugged. "I prefer the stuff I drink not to taste like dog piss. And I don't drink a lot of it, so I just figure I might as well pay for stuff that doesn't insult my taste buds."

"Oh I'm not arguing," Carmen assured him, smiling as she held up her own choice, which looked to be a mid-quality rather fruity wine Ian was only passingly familiar with. "I appreciate good taste."

* * *

"I can't wait to see the next episode script," Carmen admitted later, as they were all sprawled across the two comfortable if slightly worn couches Ian had scored at a garage sale just the morning before. "I want to know if I'm going to turn Dennis down and follow my dreams, or decide to settle for the redeemed bully and ruin my friendship."

"Maybe we'll all come to a wonderful compromise," Tina suggested with heavy irony and skepticism. "And everyone will decide to take a year to follow their dreams, then all go to the University in Central together… and we'll get a sequel series following our wacky college adventures."

"Where Dennis rises to stardom, while Logan finds himself back to being stuffed into lockers because he fits?" Ian suggested, snickering as he sipped from his bottle. "Or the girls take over the school, discover that intellectual men are far superior, and nix the sports program, leaving our boys out in the cold!"

"I'm not sure I like that plot after the part where I rise to stardom," Reggie snorted. "That's the only really good part."

"I like the part where the girls take over the school," Carmen teased him. "But that's not really fair to the boys," she agreed before getting a little more serious. "But really, Tanner hinted at the possibility things might get really steamy next week. Like… pushing the rating steamy."

"Well I doubt that's going to be Violet," Tina commented with a shake of her curly blonde head. "I mean, I just admitted I'm not in love with Logan after all. We're more likely to break up next week than have sex. Then I'd be the one who pushes him to accept that offer elsewhere as a way to get out of town, which would only make Dennis hate me, which isn't what I'd want of course."

"I just hope there's a happy ending in here somewhere," Carmen sighed. "If the entire thing just ends on a downer, I'm going to give the writers a piece of my mind, and the fans will hate it."

"I don't know," Reggie looked thoughtful. "They like the strangest things sometimes. The more angst the more they want more. And even if the series is over, there's always the possibility they'll pull us in for a movie to resolve anything left hanging in the series."

"I think we'd be fabulous on the big screen," Tina beamed, then giggled, and tipped sideways a little, still hugging a throw pillow, where she sat cross-legged on the couch next to Ian.

"And I think maybe we should get some sleep and keep our jobs on the small one by showing up on time tomorrow," Reggie suggested, blinking at the clock on the wall.

Ian looked up. It was after one. "As always, the soul of sensibility."

"Want me to walk you downstairs?" Reggie offered Tina, who nodded and got to her feet a little over-steady.

When they left, Ian looked across at Carmen, who had been sharing the other couch with Reggie. "What about you?" She didn't live that far away, though she didn't live in the Nest. Still, he wasn't sure if she was safe to drive.

Carmen stood up and came around the beat-up coffee table. "I'm not too bad," she assured him with a shrug. "And I doubt you're in any better condition to drive."

"No, I'm not," Ian admitted. "But I could still walk you home."

"I appreciate that," she smiled, sitting down next to him. "And I might take you up on that, but if you don't mind, I think I'd rather stay here tonight."

Ian eyed her curiously. "My couch is your couch," he quipped, even as he wondered if that was what she meant. He'd known Carmen for three years. They got along famously. She'd never made a move on him before, but it sure looked like she might be now. "Unless that's not what you're after," he added lightly, hoping he hadn't misread the situation. He didn't want to insult a friend.

Carmen chuckled. "Ever the perceptive one, aren't you? No, you're right. I was hoping you might be up for more personal company." Her dark, wavy hair framed her equally dark brown eyes, making them seem bigger, somehow, in the dim light.

It didn't take much to be attracted to Carmen. She was a beautiful woman, more beautiful, Ian happened to think, off-camera than her character was on camera. He liked her personality, her sense of humor. "I like you, Car. You're great. But I have to admit this seems a little out of the blue."

"I'm not proposing matrimony, Ian," she replied easily, resting her head on her elbow, which was settled on the back of the couch. "I like you too. You're a great friend. I'm just…." Her smile slipped a little. "This is going to sound pathetic, but I'm lonely. My last boyfriend was a loser, and I just want to spend some time with someone I can trust to be honest with me… who appreciates me."

"I can understand that." Ian remembered that guy. It had been a fairly short relationship several months ago, and Carmen had pretty much sworn off dating after that. "Everyone deserves a little appreciation." He reached out and pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, and leaned in and gently brushed his lips against hers, just testing the waters.

Carmen leaned into him unhesitatingly, and wrapped her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened.

Ian had no problem returning the enthusiasm and growing passion, but… "You're _sure _about this?" he gasped quietly, breaking the kiss as they fell sideways on the couch.

"Yes, I am," she replied. "Are you? Rep aside… I know you're not exactly hesitant with girls."

"Most of them don't qualify on the list of best friends," Ian pointed out, feeling a little disgruntled. No, he wasn't exactly a virgin, but that didn't mean he went around sleeping with his co-workers and friends on a regular basis.

"We'll still be friends in the morning," Carmen promised. "Please… Ian…"

**March 16****th****, 1976 **

"Ian's place."

Ian stirred from deep, groggy sleep at the sound of Carmen's voice, muffled by his pillow, on the other side of the apartment. He hadn't registered the phone ringing, so it took a moment to guess that she had answered it.

"Oh, hello Mr. Elric! This is Carmen."

_What?_ Ian sat bolt upright on the bed, wrenching himself around enough to see Carmen clearly, standing at the edge of his kitchenette in nothing but her lacy rose-colored bra and underwear, casually chatting _with his father! _

"Yes, that's right," she smiled, "I'm on the show. But you called for Ian. Let me get him for you." She turned fully towards him and nodded sideways at the phone in her hand. "It's your dad."

"I know it's my dad!" He spoke in a half-strangled tone as he leaped from the bed, sheets dragging as he made it the phone in three strides. "Thanks," he murmured absently as he picked up the receiver. "Hi, Dad."

"Good morning." His father's voice had that tone in it; the one Ian knew meant his father wanted to ask about the girl in his apartment at –he glanced at the clock- nine in the morning, but at the same time probably didn't really want to have the answer confirmed. "I was just calling to chat," his father went on. "See how moving in is going."

"Oh… it's great," Ian replied, smoothing his internal feathers enough to respond normally. It rankled whenever his father sounded like he disapproved of Ian's lifestyle lately. "Found the most comfortable couches yard sail…ing," the last word was split by a large yawn.

"Late night?"

"Yeah," Ian ignored the too-casual tone. "Night filming for the rest of the week, and next week. With rehearsals and auditions there's not much time for anything else."

"I see."

Ian bit his tongue. Why couldn't his father have called later in the day? He _knew_ Ian wasn't a morning person by choice; only when necessity required it. "Yep. Look, I need to go. I've got two auditions this afternoon to prep for. Thanks for calling, Dad. I'll call you when I get some free time. Love to Mom. Bye!" And he hung up without waiting for a response.

Carmen was looking at him curiously as she poured two bowls of cereal with milk. "Well… that was… is something wrong?"

"No, not really." Ian shrugged. "My dad's just kind of… conservative." And a hypocrite, Ian thought, though he didn't feel the need to say that aloud. He'd figured out years ago that Coran's birthday and his parents' wedding anniversary didn't line up along a _proper_ timeline. His father wasn't a saint either.

"Oh." Carmen looked immediately sorry. "I shouldn't have answered your phone, should I? I just thought it might be Tanner or someone."

"It's not your fault," Ian assured her as he pulled on clean boxers from the laundry basket. "It certainly could have been him, or a call back." He joined her at the counter, settling onto the bar stool on one side –also a great thrift shopping find. "And I'm not sure I care at this point how much he approves or disapproves of what I do with my personal life. It's not like I'd give him the whole truth if he really pushed for it." Detailing out exactly what girls he had actually slept with, or not, was not on his list of things he wanted to discuss with his father, ever. "He wouldn't like it any better than going off the theories and rumors in all the gossip rags."

"They do like to talk about you in particular, don't they?" Carmen shook her head, though her smile was one of mild amusement paired with sympathy. "I wonder what they'd say about last night."

Ian started eating his cereal. His stomach was near to rioting otherwise. "Some long and sordid tale about a secret series-long romance no doubt," he grunted between bites. "Probably try and claim you and Reggie have a thing and turn this into a threesome or cheating, or something complicated." Instead of what it seemed to be, a pleasant one-night encounter between friends. Those could happen, right? It seemed to be in this case. Though Ian hadn't asked yet if she really only wanted one night with him. Carmen was one of the few girls Ian knew that he wouldn't mind going out with a bit more, though he just didn't see that turning into a long-term romance. Their friendship wasn't really like that.

Carmen nodded, nibbling at her own cereal, though she watched Ian wolf down his entire first bowl before she spoke again. "Thank you."

Ian looked up as he poured a second bowl of cereal. "For last night?"

"That, and for being a friend," she replied with a softer smile. "There's a lot of selfish jerks in our business, but you're not one of them. You've helped me, encouraged me, Reggie, all of us… I… I'm going to hate it when this show is over and I don't get to see you every day."

So that was what this was about. Ian smiled. "I… wow, Car. I'm flattered. You know I don't want this to end either. But it doesn't mean we're going to stop working right? Who knows, we might get another gig together, and if not we'll keep in touch, see each other around set and around town. We're a family of our own, in a way, after working together this long."

Carmen beamed, then leaned over the counter and kissed his cheek. "You really are something else." She smiled, then finished her last few bites and put her bowl in the sink.

"Thanks." Ian chuckled, finished eating, and rinsed the bowls. By the time he was done, Carmen was dressed again. "So what are your plans today?" he asked, a little sorry she was fully clothed now that he had finally seen her full glory; though it did make it much easier to get used to looking her in the face again. While he had always thought she was pretty, as well as smart, this had given him a whole new appreciation for her physical attributes.

"Oh, I need to do some errands, and then Tina and I were going to rehearse tonight's scene."

"Sounds like fun."

"Good thing our work is like play," Carmen chuckled. "See you tonight, Ian!"

"See you." He watched her go then got down to his own daily business; showering and getting dressed. He did have a busy day planned, even more than what he had told his dad on the phone.

The knock on his door was right on schedule. Ian grabbed his gym bag and opened the door, where Reggie was waiting for him. "Ready to go," Ian grinned.

Reggie wasn't smiling.

"Something wrong?"

"Well, maybe," Reggie replied, looking uncomfortable. "I saw Carmen leave here a little bit ago."

"Yeah." Ian saw no reason to deny her being there. "She wasn't in any shape to drive home last night, so she stayed the night."

Reggie's eyes roamed past Ian into the apartment, and Ian realized he hasn't yet put things back together. The bed sheets were still halfway on the floor, the rest rumpled. "Ian…" It was clear that he, like Ian's father, wanted to ask -but didn't want to know- what had happened last night after he left.

The last thing Ian wanted to do was make things awkward between friends. Not when they had just a few short weeks of filming left. "She asked."

Reggie looked startled. "_She _did?"

"Well you know how rough she's had it," Ian reminded his friend, not sure how he felt by Reggie's surprise. "She just wanted someone she knew she could trust… to be there. I swear, that's it. What do you think I am?"

Reggie gave him a considering look for a minute before he finally shrugged. "Okay. I just don't want her to get hurt. Just because we're not actually involved doesn't mean I don't care."

"And do you really think I'd hurt her?" The idea that Reggie might think that stung.

"Well, no," Reggie admitted, looking abashed. "Not on purpose. I worry."

"No offense taken," Ian replied, just wanted to move past the awkward moment. He hadn't asked Carmen if she was interested in doing this again, and he wasn't about to spend his time hanging with Reggie thinking about it, or discussing it! "Now let's go make sure we don't embarrass ourselves tonight when we have to film all those senior pool party scenes."


	4. Chapter 4

**March 22****nd****, 1976**

Charisa nearly tripped over the cat as she walked into the kitchen. "Drat it, Rap! Stay out of the walkway." She grumbled as she looked down to find him already past her feet, nosing into the refrigerator, which was open.

Her father was standing in front of the door, holding a jar of mayonnaise.

"What are you doing, Dad?" she asked suspiciously.

"Making tuna salad," Breda replied, giving her a look that almost dared her to scold. "Everyone likes it, so I thought I'd make dinner tonight. But we don't have the right ingredients."

"What's wrong with the mayonnaise?" Charisa asked. She hadn't bought it all that long ago.

"It's low fat."

"So?"

Breda set it down on the counter and closed the refrigerator door. The cat barely got out of the way in time as he darted sideways, then went to lurk beneath the counter, on which sat open cans of tuna fish. "I wanted to use your mom's recipe," he admitted.

Charisa smiled and shook her head. "Mom used low fat mayo, Dad."

Breda gave her a skeptical look. "No."

"Yeah," she nodded. "That's the exact same mayonnaise that Mom always got. It tastes right when we eat it, right?"

"Well, yes…"

"And that's what I've been cooking with," she assured him. "Not my fault you didn't realize we eat low fat mayonnaise." She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "So you can go ahead and finish making dinner without a problem. Thank you, by the way."

"No problem." Her father still looked mildly disgruntled but after a moment he smiled back. "Might want to lock him up until I'm done," he motioned down at Rapscallion, who was still pacing the floor with a predatory air. "He hasn't left me alone since I opened the tuna."

"And you might want to make a double batch," Charisa suggested as she picked up the cat, who wriggled in protest. "Don't forget Edward and Winry are coming over for dinner."

Breda grinned. "For Ed, I might want to make a triple," he chuckled.

* * *

It was a rare evening –ever really- for Tore to get an evening with Ed and Winry that didn't also involve a pile of other family members. It hadn't been small or quiet since he'd lived with them as a kid. So a dinner that was "just" him, Charisa, Breda, and the kids with Ed and Winry was a rare treat. One that amused Tore at how much he, now, could appreciate it, where his younger self would have rolled his eyes.

There were very few people in the room related by blood, and yet Tore would never have said that his family was anything but perfect the way it was. So what if his foster parents weren't his real parents? So what if Charisa was adopted? That Dare was his alone, and Brandon was the only child that came from them both? They were a family brought together by chances, turned into choices, and taken in by the love of strangers.

Tore had to admit that he was damned lucky!

Dinner was over, and the adults were lounging in the living room. Dare and Brandon had run off upstairs to play, and Camelia was dozing off on Charisa's shoulder, where his wife sat in the recliner, rocking slowly back and forth.

Ed was teasing Breda about dinner. "Seriously, I didn't think you could cook!" He and Winry sat on the couch, while Breda was in his favorite chair. Tore had taken one half of the love seat.

Breda snorted. "How do you think I survived before I got married?"

"Take out, all-you-can-eat buffets, and the donut box in the office," Ed quipped, grinning.

Breda opened his mouth once to object… twice… but nothing came out. Tore had to assume there was some truth to the accusation.

"Daddy's always been a good cook," Charisa came to his defense.

Breda chuckled. "Thank you! At least _someone_ appreciates my talents."

"Was any of it healthy?" Ed asked with a challenging note to the question.

Charisa looked thoughtful. "Well…"

Breda shook his head. "You're one to talk," he turned the tables back on Ed.

Or tried. Ed shrugged casually. "What? I cook all the time, and it hasn't killed anyone."

"You two," Winry sighed.

Tore turned his attention to Winry. "Have they really always been like this?"

"Oh it used to be worse," Winry assured him with a smile. "They used to try and _out eat_ each other."

That was not a competition Tore would have bet on lightly.

"That is terrifying," Charisa agreed with a slight shudder.

But Tore found the idea at least mildly fascinating. "Who won?"

"Tore!"

He grinned at his wife. "What? I'm just curious!" It was history! Besides, by the time Tore had met Ed –while trying unsuccessfully to pick his pockets- the General (then-president) had already been a bit more health conscious.

Ed grinned. Breda just looked a little disgruntled.

"It wasn't ever really a fair fight," Winry answered for them. "Ed's inhuman."

"Hey!"

"Umm… excuse me."

Tore looked away from the bickering shenanigans. Krista was standing in the living room entry, holding some kind of old book. "Do you need help with something, Krista?" he asked.

Krista glanced at him, but then her nervous gaze locked on Edward. "Actually, I was hoping you or, really, Mr. Elric could help me with… some research."

That had Ed's full attention, and the teasing dropped. "What kind of research?" he asked curiously.

Krista crossed the room, still clutching the book. "Alchemy research, sir," she said, taking a steadying breath as she held it up. "My father was an alchemist. When he died I, I took all his notes in the house with me when I left and came here. But my grandmother wasn't keen on alchemy and didn't know anything about it. She thought these were gibberish…" she held the book tentatively towards Ed. "But I know they're my father's work. I'm sure they're in code, but I don't even understand the language I think he might have made it up, just to make it more difficult to decipher."

Ed took the book, looking over the outside curiously. "And he never told you anything about his work?" he asked.

Krista shook her head. "Not a lot. I mean, he taught me the basics of alchemy, but he never talked about his work. He said it was secret. And then… then he was killed."

"Killed?" Tore looked at her sharply. "We were told your father had died." He noticed Charisa was not-quite-staring at Krista now.

Krista swallowed. "The circumstances of the accident were… suspicious, but I wasn't ever allowed to really investigate. But the way Dad acted sometimes, I think someone didn't want something he knew to get out, whether it was about them, or something they found out that he had learned. I'm not sure. But I think the clues are in his notes. He kept lots of them. I've got several volumes. I couldn't bring his entire workshop, but I brought everything I knew he wrote himself."

Tore's eyes went back to the worn book; an alchemist's journal. His curiosity made his fingers itch to take a look at it himself. There were a lot of alchemy secrets people would kill for. But what could be in there? Certainly not another way to a fake philosopher's stone, or make homunculi, or living dolls, or any of the other taboo alchemy that the State had been hunting down and dealing with for decades.

He watched as Ed opened the cover of the book, looked down, and went dead still.

Silence fell.

"Ed?" Breda broke the silence first. "What is it?"

For a moment, Tore thought Ed's hands might be trembling. But the Fullmetal Alchemist didn't speak as he stood up and crossed the room, snatching the phone off its table and starting to dial.

"Ed!" Winry spoke up more abruptly, looking slightly afraid. "What's going on?"

"I've got to get Al over here, now," Ed replied, though it wasn't much of an explanation.

"Why?" Tore asked.

Ed looked back at them all as he finished dialing and the phone began to ring. "Those notes… they're not gibberish. They're in German."

* * *

Even by the time Al actually arrived, Ed could hardly believe what he was looking at. The book was in code all right, but the language was painfully, horribly familiar. Even Winry recognized it when he showed it to her, though she had admitted she didn't remember much of it.

But Ed did. And while he couldn't decipher what the code meant, the words were far from disjointed. In fact, it wasn't unlike his and Al's old notes… in travelogue or, in this case, reading like a history.

What troubled him was some of the tidbits _in_ that history. Hints at events that had happened that he knew had not happened in Creta, or Amestris, or anywhere on the continent. Nor would he find evidence to the contrary, because even the place names were consistent with what Ed knew of Germany, France, Italy… the other side of the gate.

And a life time ago. Yet here it was, in the hands of a man who had died only three years ago, and while the dates were a little odd, they were consistent with the time difference Ed recalled being between the two worlds. But that meant Ed was looking at hints of events from decades after he and Al had come back through the Gate, leaving the other world to its fate, and they weren't all happy events. Not that Ed could make a whole lot of sense of it without the older volumes.  
Krista was more than willing to bring the rest that she had with her downstairs.

Ed was laying them out on the coffee table when Al arrived, immediately reaching for the nearest journal and staring at it with the same stunned expression Ed still felt.

"How is this possible?" Al asked as he sat down next to Ed, pouring over the journal in his hands.

"That's what I want to find out," Ed replied as he looked for the earliest volume. Each one seemed to cover about two years of time, and finally he found the first one, dating back eighteen years before. "Here we go," he turned to the first page, and began to read.

"Edward."

He looked up several lines later. "What?"

Winry was looking at him. "You're reading it in German."

"Oh." Ed felt abashed for a moment. He looked around, and realized that he was still getting odd looks from people, especially, he noticed, Charisa and Krista who were both staring at him and Al as if they had gone mildly insane. "Something wrong?"

Charisa nodded. "Yes. Could you explain, please, just what the heck language _German_ is? I've never even heard of it."

That was when it struck Ed that there were two people in the room who had absolutely no idea why this was so fascinating or problematic… and that wasn't fair because one of them was the daughter of the man who had written the journals in the first place.

Ed sighed. "That could be a really long story, but I'm going to give you the short version. You know your Amestrian History, right? There's a whole chapter on Al and I last I checked."

"Two now," Krista commented with all seriousness.

"Great," Ed shared a look with Al, who smiled. "Well, then you know Al and I disappeared for about seven years. Well, about five for Al, after the strange airship invasion that lasted only a few hours."

Charisa was nodding. "Half the history books don't even want to acknowledge that as anything more than a mass misunderstanding of rare weather phenomenon," she commented. "But yes, I remember that. Then you just show back up after having been gone for years doing research, and you took up positions in the military again with big promotions. They never say where you went. Is this German place somewhere on another continent?"

"Sort of," Ed replied. "It's in a parallel world."

Charisa snorted. "Oh, come on Mr. Elric! Don't you think I'm a little old for fairy stories?"

But Al was looking at her, and Winry, and Tore, and even Breda… and Charisa's face turned slightly pale.

"You're not kidding."

"No, he's not," Al cut in, and in short order, there had been a brief lesson on the nature of the Gate, how that was related to alchemy, and the world on the other side of it. Or at least, somewhere on the other side of it. Ed had long ago decided that it was very possible that the world wasn't the only thing beyond the gate, it was just the only other physical place they could get to alive… probably. But those theories were not ones he had the urge to really explore.

When it was done, both Charisa and Krista looked stunned. Even Tore and Breda looked like their minds had been run through a blender.

"So you can see why this is a big deal," Ed finally took the story back up. "Other than Al, Winry, and myself, there shouldn't be anyone else here who even _knows_ about Germany, let alone has the ability to write fluently in the language. These places he mentions… they're real, though the bits I'm finding are far different from the Germany I remember. But they would be, given how long it's been."

"You mean these contain information about what happened after we left." Winry was now looking at the books with keen interest.

"I think they do," Ed nodded. "But Al and I will need to fully decode them first to see what else there is to them." He wanted to dive right into it right now, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. At least, not in the next few minutes, no matter how much his fingers and mind itched to be at it. "That may take a while. Though first thing we have to do is actually crack the code so we can write them out in plain Amestrian and see what we've got."

Tore stood, with a grin on his face. "I'll put on coffee."

"I didn't mean right…"

"Oh don't even try to pretend, Ed," Breda chuckled. "We can see it in your eyes. You're dying to get into this material."

Ed glanced at Winry, who was smiling knowingly at him. He sighed as Al chuckled. "Yeah, okay. But we could be at this all night. Maybe Al and I should take this back to one of our houses so we don't intrude on your night."

"You think Tore doesn't want to watch you at work?"

"Or help," Tore pointed out. "Besides, I think it's only fair to Krista that you work on it here. They're her father's journals after all."

A very good point. Ed looked at Krista, who was sitting quietly, looking shocked at how fast this was all coming on. "You make a good point. All right. We'll stay here."

"You can use the dining table," Charisa offered as she stood up, Camelia now asleep on her shoulder. "Winry, would you mind helping me get the kids in bed?"

"I'd be happy to help," Winry assured her, standing and following Charisa out of the room.

Al, Tore, and Breda all headed for the dining room to finish clearing off the table.

Ed was set to follow when he glanced down. Krista was sitting in the chair she had taken at the beginning of the story, silently, still looking stunned.

Ed sat down next to her. "Are you all right?" He couldn't blame her. It had to be a lot to take in.

Krista jumped. "Oh.. yes I… I guess I just can't believe my father was from another world! It seems so far-fetched and… what does that make me?" She asked the last softly.

Ed smiled gently. "Yourself. It doesn't change who you are, or what," he added with emphasis. "You're human, like everyone else. That's what everyone on the other side of the gate is; people just like us. Same flesh, blood, and souls."

Krista seemed relieved by this fact, though her reactions were far from blatant. She clearly kept her deeper feelings close to her chest in most cases. Not that Ed could blame her, given her situation. "So they're just the same?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Ed nodded. "World's a little different. New languages, other countries and politics, but it all works the same. People live, grow up, socialize, fall in love, have jobs, and die of old age. The major difference when Al and I were there was their level of technological advancement, that and alchemy is very weak in their world."

"But my father was an alchemist."

"There were people who _studied_ it," Ed clarified. "But very few of them, and it was a lot less scientific. As a culture they gave up on it sooner and focused on engineering and other hard sciences." He considered how much he really ought to be telling her. She had a right to know, but he didn't want to put the wrong ideas into her head either. "Their knowledge of advanced chemistry, physics, and other sciences that don't require an alchemical energy source was impressive. I wouldn't be at all surprise if your father was a scientist who picked up alchemy very easily."

"But, how did he get here?" Krista had still more questions. "And why did he stay?"

"That's what I want to find out."

Realization and curiosity dawned on Krista's face. "How?"

"By doing a little investigating." Ed tapped one of the journals with his finger. "You said this wasn't everything he had written, just his journals; his research notes."  
Krista nodded. "I couldn't bring everything. These were the ones he always told me were the most important to him. I don't know what he left in his workshop."

"Well then we can see if we can find the truth of what happened to him. And if anything else of his is still around."

"How will you manage that?" Krista asked, looking skeptical, though Ed could tell she really wanted to believe him. This was, after all, why she had brought him the journals in the first place.

He grinned. "Oh, I know a few people."


	5. Chapter 5

**April 1st, 1976**

"I thought you were going to talk her into taking this week off?" Tore commented softly to Roy on Monday morning as he watched Trisha settle into her spot at her desk and get right back into the stack of paperwork she was going through, where she had left off the Friday before.

Roy looked disgruntled. "Yeah, so did I."

"You've got to be more firm with her," Cal commented from behind his desk just across the aisle. "I swear, Mustang, you've gotten awfully submissive lately."

"You haven't had to deal with what her hormones do when she's mad," Roy grumbled, bending back over his report. "You're the superior officer. You could just order her to take leave, couldn't you?"

"With reason."

"I'd call that plenty of reason," Roy sighed.

Tore hid the smile that crept onto his face by getting highly absorbed in the reports that had shown up on his desk since Friday. He felt sympathy for Roy, but he was with on this one Cal too. Besides, Trisha was getting work done, safely behind a desk, and even if she was due to pop any day, there were far worse places to go into labor than surrounded by capable colleagues and this close to the hospital.

"Sorry, Mustang. Your wife, your problem." Cal flipped to the next folder on his desk, looking unenthused. "Great. Financial reports. Looks like they want to try and cut funding again."

"What, are we going to have to start sewing our own uniforms next?" Tore quipped. Lately the big thing seemed to be cutting military costs. While Tore was all for thrifty spending, he didn't particularly like the Assembly getting that involved in the military budget. Charisa, thankfully, agreed with him, so their house was a relatively peaceful place on that score.

"If they do, I'm having Alyse transmute mine," Cal snorted. "Probably fit better anyway."

"Complaints, Chief?" Tore snickered.

For a moment, he half expected Cal's cup of coffee to hit him in the face. Instead Cal tossed a folder across the aisle so it landed with a thump on Tore's desk. "Have a look at that, Closson. You might find it interesting."

Curious, Tore picked up the folder and flipped it open. The document on the top of the sheaf of papers inside looked surprisingly old. An inventory of some sort. Scanning back to the top, Tore realized it was just what he had been waiting for; everything the Amestrian government had on the Dumais case, including everything found in the house, and anything kept in government storage, apparently at the behest of Krista's grandmother, who hadn't wanted any of it. The government had gone through everything, written up reports, and then stored it and hadn't touched it since.

The storage facility in question was, inconveniently, at West City Command. But it was far better than having everything lost. And, judging by the large number of books, several noted as supposed gibberish –and undecipherable as any kind of alchemical notes- Tore suspected that Ed and Al might find a lot more in them than the military had. He was also sure that Krista would want her parents' belongings.

Disappointingly, there was very little on his death itself. While Krista had voiced her opinion on murder, the coroners and investigation team had not ruled it either homicide or suicide. In fact, it noted that it appeared to have been an accidental fall and a bad landing on the edge of a nearby road with a sharp cliff face on one side. Cut and dry. Though there was no reason found for the fall. The body hadn't tested positive for any kind of drug or alcohol that might have impaired the man's ability to walk home. The weather had been very rainy though, so it had been ruled that he had probably slipped in the dark and wet, before the body was found the next morning.

And that was that. There were notes about some investigation on the Cretan side of the border, since the village where Krista and her father had lived was right on it, and there had been reports of unusual activity down there around the same time. That fit with what the first set of notes, which Ed and Al had been reading over in detail the past nine days. Tore wouldn't have been surprised to discover that there was alchemy being done in Creta; it was probably the men that Krista's father mentioned working with and with who he had been studying alchemy.

Now if only Ed's contact with the Cretan government yielded any further information on the case… "Yeah," he commented casually, not wanting to pique anyone else's curiosity. "Pretty interesting."

"What are you two talking about?" Roy asked as he reached for his cup of coffee and drained it.

While Tore wouldn't have had a problem talking with Roy about the unofficial investigation going on, he didn't want the whole office knowing about it. Especially when it might turn out to be nothing. "Oh, just the baby pool," he commented, grinning. "Looks like nearly half the office has bets in on that."

"On the date?" Roy asked.

"On how dark under your eyes is going to get before it happens," Cal quipped. "You're not supposed to go sleepless until after the kiddo shows up. You know that right?"

Roy frowned, and Tore took a good look at the younger alchemist. He really didn't look like he'd been sleeping well. "So I'm a little tense. It's not either one of us is sleeping great. How am I supposed to sleep when she's uncomfortable?"

"Hey, easy." Tore closed the file. "Whitewater's just razzing you. He was a total wreck when it was his turn. The way I figure it, you're far better off than he was."

"How's that?" asked Roy.

"Yeah, how is that?" Cal looked at Tore.

Tore shrugged. "At least you've got experience with your little sister. Whitewater was clueless about kids."

"Not that clueless," Cal grumbled.

Roy sniggered, and looked slightly mollified. "I don't know. My sister isn't my responsibility. I just make sure she stays alive and clean for a few hours and give her back."

"Don't worry. After jaguars and Drachmans, helping Trisha through delivery and taking care of a newborn should be a stroll in the park."

* * *

"Wow, I'm impressed," Ted commented with a low whistle as he watched Krista handle helping Dare with his homework and making dinner for the whole family at the same time. Ever since he and James had come home with her for a study session he had watched Krista work like a machine, having a snack out for the boys when Dare came home, and the General returned from taking Brandon and Camelia to the playground. Then she had put dinner on –enlisting Ted and James to help chop vegetables for the stew pot- and gotten Dare going on his homework. All in an hour and as calm as you please.

Krista smiled at him as they finally sat down around the little breakfast table in the kitchen to study where she could keep an eye on dinner. "Thanks, Ted. I wish it was more impressive, but this kind of stuff isn't really hard for me to handle. I mean, I like it." But she still looked pleased at the compliment.

"Don't knock it," Ted smiled back as he pulled out his school work. He wasn't doing the same work as James and Krista, being from another school and another grade, though the subjects were similar, and he was ahead enough in some that it was still the same general subject matter. "That kind of organization is a talent bordering on magic. I have no idea how Mom managed when all six of us were home."

Krista's eyes widened slightly as she flipped open her textbook and pulled out pencils. "Wow. Your Mom has a job too right?"

"Yeah, she's one of the senior nurses at the local hospital," Ted nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw James shoot a glare at him, but when he turned his head, James was focused on getting his own work out, and Ted dismissed it. He was enjoying talking to Krista, and having her attention on him. He wanted to get to know her better than just 'that girl he had met a couple of times.'

"Oh!" Krista smiled. "My mother, she was a nurse. Not that I remember myself. She died when I was very small." She fidgeted. "But my grandmother talked about her… all the time."

Something sharp jabbed Ted in the shins.

"Ow, what was that for?" he glared at James.

"You could be a little more sensitive," James suggested, looking annoyed.

"It's not Ted's fault," Krista shook her head as she defended him. "I'm the one who asked, and it's not like I can go pretending Grandma's still here." She took a deep breath. "She talked about Mom a lot because she was her mother. She never liked my father. I… let's do math, okay?"

"Sure." Ted replied sympathetically, and bent to his work instead as silence fell over the table. He hadn't meant to take the conversation anywhere melancholy. But he'd felt a mild thrill when she defended him to James. He put his mind to his assignment, grateful that math was one of his better subjects. Numbers and equations came easily to him.

Even the noise from the other room, where the General was entertaining the little kids, couldn't distract Ted, who plowed through most of the week's math assignments to mail back to Resembool in relatively short order.

"Oh… darn it." The quiet was broken after an hour by a frustrated groan from Krista. "I just don't get this one." She turned the paper around so both boys could see it.

James grinned after a moment. "That does look pretty challenging. Why don't I help you go through it and-"

"Forty-seven point two."

Suddenly they were both looking at him. Ted shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "What? That's the answer."

James looked annoyed. "There's no way you could possibly have figured that out that fast."

"Oh, just because you didn't?" Ted quipped in return. "Look, let me explain how to work this one out." He stood up and came around the table to Krista's side, leaning over and easily working through the problem, explaining each step as he went. It took about two minutes to work it out the long way, but he came up with exactly the same answer. Krista looked thrilled. James was studiously looking at his own work.

"Wow… that's amazing. Thanks, Ted!" Krista smiled at him. "Those never make sense to me. But you make it sound so much easier. I might actually get an A on this next test! I was so sure I was going to bomb those, and I know there will be questions like it on there."

"It's no problem, really," Ted assured her, trying to sound reasonably modest. "It's kind of an alchemist thing. I spend all day working with equations and balancing things out. That, and I did this section a few weeks ago," he admitted. "So, you think you can do the next one on your own?"

"Yeah, I think I can. Watch me and tell me if I get something wrong?" Krista turned back to the paper, but she didn't ask him to move away.

Ted tried not to grin too much as he nodded. "Sure. I'd be happy to."

** April 6****th****, 1976**

Cal had never really had a preference for Saturday mornings over any other morning in his early years. His parents had never had a rest day on weekends, and that meant he hadn't either. As a State Alchemist he had often worked right through weekends because on a mission no one cared what day of the week or time of night it might be. But ever since he had taken Sara's position as desk-jockey-in-charge-of-alchemist-assignments under General Kane, and the kids had gotten old enough to have schedules as much as Alyse did, he had learned to appreciate any time he could get to himself.

Even if that time to himself meant volunteering to go every Saturday and do the week's shopping. Spending hours running errands was a far cry from his old ideas of a relaxing time, but it was about the only time he got to himself these days. If he wasn't swamped with work, he was attending a State function, or one of Alyse's many activities, or helping run Gloria around to dance and, lately, music lessons. Gloria had expressed interest in several instruments, and they had finally agreed on one to start; the flute.

Cal was extremely grateful that Gloria's favorite time to practice at home was Saturday mornings while he was running errands, or before he got home from work during the week. He was also glad that Alyse did her workout early, and was home in the mornings to do things around the house, work on her projects, and keep an eye on the kids. He would have preferred to steal her away for a few hours, but he'd take what he could get at the moment.

It didn't matter that it was pouring rain outside as Cal grabbed the keys and headed down the stairs from the entryway of their house down to the little bottom-level workroom and garage in the bottom of their townhome. It was a feature he was fond of, given it meant he didn't have to get snow off the car in the winter or go out in the rain to load and unload the car most of the time.

He started whistling as he opened the door to the garage and double checked that he had the rather long shopping list in hand. This run might take him all morning! It was going to be-

- green.

The front of the black family car was splattered in bright green paint. The floor was green. The skateboard leaning against the bumper was green.

And standing in the middle of it all, looking up at him with wide eyes was a very green-coated Charlie.

The car!

Cal could just imagine how expensive that was going to be to get cleaned off if he didn't lose his entire Saturday scrubbing it off himself. He just… could hardly believe his eyes! Stunned, he stared at the mess, then at his five-year-old son. "What the hell did you think you were _doing?_"

Charlie swallowed. "I wanted to paint the skateboard!" he gestured to the offending toy leaning against the car. "I thought…"

"You _didn't_ think." Cal barked, surprising himself as fury welled inside him. "Look at this mess! You know you don't have permission to be down here without me or your mother. And you're not supposed to play with anything in here!" They were well established family rules.

"It was an accident!" Charlie replied with surprising firmness. "I wasn't aiming at the car."

"Doesn't look like you aimed at anything," Cal retorted, snatching the can out of his son's hand. It wasn't even the right kind of paint. This stuff wasn't going to come off without hours of work. "And don't talk back to me!" He grabbed Charlie's arm. "We're going upstairs right now and you're taking a bath, before this stuff dries all over you."

"But I-"

"I don't want to hear it!" Cal dragged his son into the house again and upstairs. "I've had enough. First it was the broken vase on Monday, and the haircut on the cat. I've had it. You're grounded!"

"Calvin!" He heard Alyse and saw her on the stairs from the bedroom. Her eyes went wide when she saw their green son. "What happened?"

"Here, wash him," Cal thrust the boy up the stairs with a controlled shove. "I've got to go get green paint off the car before it dries! I'll still do the errands." Then he turned and stormed back downstairs before he completely lost his temper. _Of all the stupid, foolish, short-sighted…_

Cal was still ranting in his head when he pulled out of the driveway into the rain.

Overhead, thunder rolled, ending in a sharp crack that reminded Cal of a belt smacking flesh.

At least he hadn't hit the boy.

That sobering thought brought him out of his rage long enough to focus on his driving, and by the time Cal pulled into the local car repair shop he preferred, he was beginning to feel like he'd grossly over-reacted. Charlie was only five. He hadn't been _trying_ to get paint everywhere. He just hadn't thought things through.

_Fabulous. Now I feel like a heel._

* * *

Alyse began to get worried when Cal wasn't home for lunch. Stunned by his furious and abrupt departure, she had scrubbed Charlie down, sent him to his room, and gone to survey the damage for herself. Even without the car, the mess was pretty awful. Thankfully, on inspection, nothing else would be permanently harmed by being coated in green paint. The shelves and the concrete floor would survive. So would the plastic totes she stored half of their supplies in on the bottom shelves. It was probably good that the spray can of paint had been over half empty.

So she had done what cleanup she deemed necessary, and then gone about her day as usual after a long talk with Charlie about breaking the rules and being careless, and doing things without asking for permission or help.

Lunch was a quiet affair. Charlie ate in his room. Gloria had finished her flute practice, and as soon as she finished eating vanished into her room to practice her exercises on the little ballet bar set up in front of the full-length mirror on her bedroom wall.

Alyse finished folding the last two loads of laundry, put them away, and then worked on the centerpieces for a wedding she was coordinating that was going off in two weeks. When she was done she sat down and finished the guest list for the small dinner a couple of Assemblymen were putting on for some of their more important supporters. Reelections were coming up, and that had made her very popular for her event-planning services.

Dinner was almost ready when she heard the car pull in downstairs. Cal appeared several minutes later, laden with groceries, and looking grim and damp.

"How did it go?" Alyse asked simply.

Cal set down the bags and started putting food away. "Oh… it wasn't so bad. Not after I dropped the car off. Had to walk most of the day though. Fortunately they got all the paint cleaned off before I had to do the big shop." He started loading fresh produce into the refrigerator. "And I only stepped in one mud puddle."

The clipped tone was a clear enough sign that Cal was still unhappy, and his day had really not gone well. "Do you want to change first?" Alyse offered.

"No, I don't."

Alyse sighed in her head. "Charlie's really sorry for this morning."

"He should be."

"How long did you think he should be grounded?" she asked calmly. "You didn't say anything before you left."

Cal stopped, and his shoulders slumped. A long silence fell in the kitchen. Finally, Cal sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, 'Lyse. I didn't mean to lose it like that. I… I don't even know where it came from."

Alyse left the garlic bread on the counter and crossed to him, laying a hand on his arm. "Everyone loses their temper sometimes," she reminded him gently. "I'm not _happy_ with him either, and I don't think he's going to forget this lesson anytime soon."

"I could have hurt him." Cal's arm quivered. "I… damn it. I almost smacked him."

"But you didn't." Alyse's hand moved up and down the trembling arm. "Yes, you could have been less rough with him, but he's not hurt. Just scared. Which isn't so bad if you two have a talk after dinner, so he knows you don't hate him."

"Hate him?" Cal turned sharply and stared at her. "I don't hate him!"

Alyse smiled. There. That ought to do it. "Of course you don't. You both owe each other a good apology, and once Charlie serves out his punishment, it can all be over."

"I hope it's that easy."

Alyse reached up and pressed her hand softly against his rough cheek. "It's never too late to put things right. And you're not your father."

"I didn't say I was." He looked annoyed and slightly guilty.

"I know." Alyse kissed his cheek. "But you were thinking it."


	6. Chapter 6

**April 8****th****, 1976**

Ted was getting used to sleeping on the pallet on the floor of James' room. It was more comfortable than camping out, and it was fun hanging around with his cousin even if they did both have school. Visits to Central were about as close to adventures as he seemed to be allowed to get; a fact that both amused and irritated him. He was fourteen. An age that in his family seemed to be both a child, and yet old enough to run off and get into massive amounts of trouble.

Ted had to admit he felt somewhere in between. Though at the moment, Uncle Tore's attractive house guest was by far and away enough of a distraction to keep Ted happy he was in Central and not elsewhere. He and James had studied with Krista three more times in the past week since the first time they had gone over with her after Krista and James finished with school. And each time, Ted found himself enjoying her company, even if they were technically math study sessions. Krista was so easy to talk to and he really thought she was having fun.

Especially today; it seemed like they had barely actually talked about math at all. Krista understood the concepts enough that they could just chat while they worked.

It was a good thing he was good at math, Ted mused as he finished brushing his teeth and went into James' room. Otherwise his own work would probably be suffering.

James was already in bed with just his reading lamp on, apparently deeply absorbed in a book. Something that wasn't at all unusual, except that he seemed to get into it earlier every evening.

Well, that wasn't happening tonight, because Ted had a question he thought only his cousin might be able to answer. "Hey, James."

His cousin took several seconds to look up from his book. "What?"

"I was wondering something, and I thought you might be able to offer me some advice."

James looked curious yet skeptical at the same time. "Shoot."

Ted took that for ascent. "Do you think Krista would go out with me, you know, if I asked her?"

"No, I don't."

Well, that was abrupt. "Why not?"

James shrugged. "You're just not her type."

Ted scowled. That wasn't at all helpful. "And what would _that_ be?" he snapped.

"Look… just don't ask her out, okay?" James looked back down at his book.

"Oh! I get it. You're jealous."

James' ears flushed pink. "I'm not jealous."

Ted didn't believe it for a moment. He'd seen the looks James gave him sometimes when he was chatting with Krista. "Well, have _you_ asked her out?" Ted challenged.

The red crept from James' ears right down his neck. "Well, no…"

"Does she even know you think she's cute?"

"No."

"Well then I can ask her out!" Ted gestured point-of-factly. "She's not seeing anyone else. You haven't made a move. It's not poaching."

"That doesn't mean you should do it." James slammed his book shut and glared at Ted. "What would you say if I _was_ planning to ask her out?"

Ted shrugged. Just because James lived here, just because he was a year older, didn't mean Ted was just going to give way. "I'd say you'd better get to her first."

* * *

The sudden slam coming from above her head made Sara jump and stare up at the ceiling of her living room. Her cup of tea nearly sloshed all over her lap. "What the heck was that?"

Not that her exclamation got a response. Franz was working late tonight, courtesy of President Rehnquist being exceptionally busy, and that meant Sara had the rest of the night to herself with the boys in bed. At least, that was the theory.

Another thunk and a crash sent her flying for the stairs. Moments later she had flung back the door to James' room. "What the-"

The scene that met her made her go momentarily speechless. James' lamp lay shattered on the floor. The chair was overturned, and books scattered everywhere in a heap that James would never normally have allowed.

But what had her speechless was her son and her nephew, frozen as they stared up at her, still halfway locked in what had clearly moments before been a rather violent wrestling match… at best. Their hair was a mess and James' right eye was already swelling black. Ted was bleeding from the mouth, and both were panting heavily.

Ted regained voice first. "Oh… hey Aunt Sara."

Something clicked inside, and Sara regained her usual focus. "Does someone want to explain this?" she asked, her voice low, with the tone she gave that sent her students begging for mercy on most days.

James swallowed. "Ted was just… showing me some fighting moves Grandpa showed him."

Sara couldn't remember the last time her son had tried to lie to her, but even with the straight face she was convinced he was doing it now. "Fighting moves?" she asked skeptically. James had as much interest in fighting as Ted did in learning to waltz.

"Uh, yeah," Ted nodded as the two dislodged themselves from arms, legs, and choke holds. "We were just talking about self-defense and I ah… well we sort of misjudged force."

There was certainly a fitting punishment for this, and Sara was sure it would come to her. But for the moment, she was still slightly nonplussed trying to figure out what the boys were trying to cover up. There was no way this wasn't a fight… though what the two of them could have to fight about she had no idea. They had always gotten along perfectly well.

What concerned her more was Ted's bleeding mouth and James' swelling eye. "The two of you can consider telling me the truth," she replied with a flat glare. "For the moment, we'd better get you both looked at before it's too late."

"Too late?" Ted looked surprised. "For what?"

"For one thing, to put back that tooth you look like you're missing."

* * *

Normally Ethan was only called out of bed at night for deliveries, and he almost never made house calls. However, Sara's tone on the phone and the circumstances had him deathly curious. He'd apologized to Lia, dislodged himself from bed, and driven over to his sister's house to find things just as she had said.

He started with Ted's mouth. Thankfully, while he wasn't a dentist, a chipped tooth he could fix with alchemy. And that was all it was. The rest of the bleeding had mostly stopped on its own and was from a cut in the gums. Cuts and scrapes he left as object lessons. "So, do you want to tell me what this was really about?" he asked conversationally as he sat in the bathroom with Ted, finishing up his work on the teenager's mouth and looking over his face for any other wounds.

Ted looked uneasy. "I told Aunt Sara…"

"A load of crap," Ethan cut him off calmly. "I don't believe you misjudged that punch, and neither does she. If nothing else _you_ are too good a fighter to have done it, even if James was foolish enough not to get out of the way. Don't insult my intelligence by trying to tell me you weren't going at each other."

Ted glanced away. "It's between him and me," he grumbled softly.

Ethan hoped he wasn't dealing with this himself in four years. Fortunately Eamon wasn't old enough to be really interested in girls, and Aeddan had almost a decade. And if this wasn't about a girl, he'd eat sawdust. "Well you'd both better figure out if she's worth it."

Ted looked up, shocked, and Ethan knew he'd hit the mark.

"You're cousins and friends. Think about it." Ethan straightened up. "You're lucky you didn't get that tooth knocked right out, you know." He could just imagine Cassie's fury if Ted had really knocked it out for good. It was one of his adult teeth.

"Yeah, I know." Ted shrugged, then looked up at him. "What would you have done if Will had tried to ask out Aunt Lia?"

Ethan had to think about that one. His mind went back to college – the only time he could have seen that as a possibility, and only if Ren hadn't been there. If Will had ever made a move on Lia… blood. No doubt about it. He shook his head, though he had to refrain from smiling. "I wouldn't have liked it," he replied. "But I don't think I'd have let the situation ruin the fact that Will and I have always gotten along. Though I'm not sure that's a fair comparison, given Lia's really not Will's type."

Ted looked skeptical.

"Can I ask who the girl is?" Ethan asked. This might be the only time they got anything out of either boy, and somehow he thought he might get more out of Ted. The boy wasn't usually closed-mouthed.

"Who said it was a girl?" Ted quipped just a little too quickly.

"It's all over your face," Ethan retorted. "And you're awfully obvious. Can you at least tell me if she's interested in either one of you?"

Now Ted looked down at the tile floor. "We don't know."

"And you're already beating each other bloody." Ethan shook his head. "I'm not sure I want to know what will happen if she shoots you both down."  
Ted's head jerked upward and his mouth fell slightly open before he snapped it shut.

Ethan couldn't help snickering. "Didn't occur to you yet? I think you'd better find out who, if anyone, this girl likes before you go beating each other's heads in. Frankly I'm amazed Sara hasn't already asked me to take you home with me." He wouldn't put it past her. It would definitely simplify things.

"No, that's… that's not necessary." Ted sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me," Ethan turned to open the door. "You and James ought to be apologizing to each other." There were days he was glad he had missed out on most of the drama of being a teenager when it came to girls. He'd had quite enough to deal with as it was. For now, he just hoped this was the end of the violence. He doubted it was the end of the rivalry.

**April 9****th****, 1976 **

There was just nothing to be done about it. It didn't matter how much she reached and twisted, turned and stretched, there was just no way Trisha was going to manage to reach her feet long enough to tie her shoes. Grumbling under her breath, she stopped trying, and waited until she'd stopped panting before she called out for her husband. "Roy! I need you."

It wasn't something she tried to do a lot lately, because it was already like she had a guard dog following her around everywhere, stalking her every move; a dog who could talk, and insisted on trying to do everything for her whether she could physically do it or not. While it had been sweet at first, Trisha was close to shoving a shoe up Roy's backside if he didn't ease up a little.

Which was why it was hard to stomach as he hurried into the room looking half panicked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she replied, a little testily. He probably expected her to be in labor. "I need help with these." She gestured at her feet. One had a shoe on, the other didn't. Neither were tied.

Some blood came back into Roy's face. He crossed the room and looked at her shoes thoughtfully.

"Well?" Trisha snipped. "We're going to be late for work at this rate."

Roy bent down, picked up her remaining shoe… and then set it down again. "Stay home."

"Very funny." Trisha tried to bend over to reach for it, but a twinge in her side made her abandon the reach. She was so very tired of being pregnant.

"I'm not joking."

She looked at Roy, who had returned to a standing position. "So you're just going to leave me like this. That's strange. You've been coddling for me months."

His expression turned to a frown. "You're not going," he replied more firmly. "It's crazy, Trisha. I mean, look at you!"

"Kind of hard not to," Trisha grumbled. It wasn't fair. She wasn't about to go lying around the house just _waiting_ for this kid to decide he or she was ready to come out. She knew she was the one who had pressed to start having children now, but at the moment she just wanted this part _over with._ "I can't just stay here with nothing to do."

"Trish… you can't even put on your shoes." A small chuckle escaped him.

He was laughing? "Stop it!" she wailed, pushing herself onto her feet awkwardly. Another feeling she was tired of. "How would you like it; barely being able to move? I can't run, or fight, or get out of a _car_ by myself. And you're laughing!" She glowered as she closed the distance between them.

"Woah, easy," Roy did back up a step as he brought up his hands. "Calm down, okay? I know, it's not easy. I get it. But you should be relaxing and-"

"And I don't want to be quiet." Trisha shoved her finger into his sternum. "I don't _want_ to sit around watching my stomach expand! I don't want to…"

Another snort of a laugh escaped Roy's lips, though he immediately tried to smother it.

"_What's so funny, Mustang?"__  
_

* * *

He was in serious trouble. Roy knew it from the tone in her voice, and the fury on his wife's face. He hadn't meant to laugh. He hadn't! But there was just something funny about the situation. Or at least, there had been. He had a feeling if he didn't smooth it over fast he was going to end up with a black eye. "You're just… so cute," he finally managed to get out without chuckling.

"Cute?"

"Yeah, cute." Roy began to bring his hands down out of defensive posture. Very slowly. "I mean, you're always hot when you're angry, but this is… well it's sort of adorable."

Trisha's shoulders were slowly relaxing. Roy thought he might have a shot at not having to block a punch. "You're nuts."

"About you." Roy dared to reach out and tentatively pull her into a hug. Thought tense, Trisha didn't resist. "I just want you to be comfortable and safe…and avoid the embarrassment of going into labor in the middle of the office."

He was rewarded with a twitch that might have been almost a chuckle. "But I was hoping to scare all the guys at work senseless."

"Oh you would… trust me." Roy kissed the top of her head. "I'd be top of the list."

Trisha turned her head slightly and looked up at him. "You're such a wimp."

From anyone else, Roy would have been annoyed. But he knew Trisha didn't mean it. "Yeah. You'll note I never volunteered to carry a baby." He smiled down at her. "I could never do it. I don't have the patience."

"I noticed."

"Or the strength."

"That's debatable."

"Or the constitution."

"I spent three months throwing up," Trisha pointed out.

"And then you stopped." Roy tapped her upturned nose with his finger. "You've kept everything down for months."

Trisha grimaced. "Thanks for the reminder."

"Oh get over it." Roy leaned in to kiss her. "You look fine. And you'll lose all the weight in no time."

Trisha's hand clutched hard at his shirt.

_Shit. Too far! Back pedal!_ "I didn't mean like that," he blurted out quickly. "I just-"

"Oh… shut it." Trisha replied, her voice very soft.

"But-"

"Roy will you shut up and listen!" Trisha looked up at him sharply, and he could see the hand on her belly. "I'm… wet."

"Wet?"

She straightened up and gave him a withering look. "My water broke."

Realization dawned, and with it a sense of panic. Roy swallowed. "Well," he managed weakly. "Looks like our baby has an ironic sense of timing."

* * *

"Fancy seeing you here," Sara quipped, smiling at Maes as she walked into Roy and Trisha's living room. She couldn't help feeling jealous that Maes had been able to be over most of the day. Elena had gotten off work early. Sara and Franz had both been stuck in meetings or classes and unable to get off. The President's apology didn't seem nearly good enough. Franz was still trapped in an ongoing run of meetings, though when she had caught him briefly in the hall he had promised to be there as soon as he could get away.

The birth of their first grandchild was not something to miss.

Maes grinned at her. "Glad you made it. Want a cup of coffee?"

"Please. Though I'm surprised there's any left." Sara followed Maes into the kitchen.

"Second pot," Maes assured her as he poured them both cups and they returned to the living room. "Every so often Roy comes out to down a cup then vanishes again."

"Any news on how things are going?" Sara asked a little more seriously. She knew that Ren was with Trisha, and that Elena and Winry were here, presumably upstairs.

"Not in the last hour," Maes replied, looking annoyed. "But the last time your mom came down she said everything was going fine."

_Fine _was such a dissatisfying and vague word. "Well, then we'll have to take Mom at her word," Sara sighed. "She wouldn't say it if anything was wrong. So, have you been upstairs yet?"

Maes shook his head. "No. The only man likely to survive going up those steps before it's done is Roy. Even Fullmetal hasn't been upstairs."

"Where _is_ Dad?"

"Out picking up dinner for the rest of us." Maes replied with a smile. "Rochelle and Théa went with him to help carry it all."

"Well that's nice of them." Théa, at just shy of twenty, was studying at the University there in Central, and Rochelle, at just eighteen, was in her last year at Central High. Sara smiled. "And where's the little angel?"

"Mireia is with Mom," Maes chuckled at the reference to his three-and-a-half year old youngest. "She's got far more energy than this house needs right now."

"They'll have enough cuteness to themselves soon enough," Sara agreed, nodding. Though her attention was half on the upstairs, listening for any signs of how things were going. After her own experiences, there was just no way she could be relaxed, knowing her daughter was upstairs giving birth. "I think I'll just slip upstairs and see for myself."

* * *

There were plenty of things Roy Mustang had faced in his life, not always without fear, but he'd always taken up the challenge and come through relatively unscathed. He had been, for the past few years, fairly certain that nothing could scare him as much as almost being eaten by a jaguar in the jungles of Aerugo. Or, conversely, the cold terror that had crept into him when he thought his relationship with Trisha might have really ended at one point.

He'd been so very wrong.

"It's all right," he said softly as her hand tightened in his through another painful –or so he assumed by the low groan that came from Trisha's mouth- contraction.

"Are you reassuring you… or me?" Trisha puffed as her grip eased again.

"My hand," Roy quipped. It wasn't bleeding, but he was sort of surprised it wasn't given the depth of the indentations her nails were leaving. They'd been at this for ten hours already. Or well, Trisha had. He couldn't claim to have been doing much other than wondering if it was possible to get caffeine and alcohol tapped intravenously into his system. He wouldn't have minded decent helpings of both right now. So far, he'd been subsisting off coffee as it was. The downside to the coffee was the necessity for bathroom breaks.

Maybe he could just transmute the coffee into a solid and eat it instead.

"Am I hurting you?" Trisha craned her neck a little, trying to see his hand.

Roy turned it so she couldn't see the deep nail marks. "Nah, not really," he reassured her. "Don't worry about it."

Ren shot him a reassuring smile from the other end of the bed, as she straightened up and readjusted the hem of Trisha's gown for decency's sake. Everyone else was downstairs eating dinner, so it was just the three of them for the moment. Roy had to admit, he preferred it this way. He felt less useless when he wasn't outnumbered by capable women who had all been through this before repeatedly.

"So?" Roy asked, hoping the news was that this would all be over soon. He'd never had hours feel like days before. Not like this.

"Maybe another hour or two, and you should be ready to push," Ren estimated, smiling at Trisha. Then she turned to Roy. "You've got time to get something to eat."

"No thanks." Roy shook his head.

"Oh go on," Trisha gestured towards the door. "At least one of us should eat something."

"I'm not leaving," Roy replied. Short runs out were one thing. He wasn't going to leave long enough to eat a full meal. Besides, he had sort of lost his appetite. "I'm fine. Really. I'll eat later."

It didn't take much to know that neither Ren nor Trisha were completely fooled by his protestation, but they didn't argue, and Roy was grateful. He wasn't scared about fatherhood anymore. Not at the moment. He'd spent enough time with his baby sister that he knew he could handle that stuff.

He just wasn't sure he was going to survive getting to the point where baby and mother were both safely in the outside world. "How did I ever let you talk me into this?"

"Black silk."

Roy almost jumped. He hadn't realized he's spoken aloud. But at Trisha's words, he remembered the short, black nightgown in question. "Oh, yeah."


	7. Chapter 7

**April 10****th****, 1976**

Two-in-the-morning would never be the same, and Trisha Heimler Mustang didn't think she would ever forget the amazing feeling of holding her little girl in her arms for the first time. Or the second time… or ever.

It had taken longer than anticipated, thanks to her daughter's large head which she had insisted came from Roy, who hadn't even argued the point. He'd looked too pale and shaken to argue, and Trisha had felt a mild twinge of guilt, even in the midst of pushing. While he'd tried to hide it, she'd seen the gouges in his hands, the worry on his face.

Now he was smiling at them both; her, and their daughter, his hands resting gently on Trisha's shoulders as he sat beside her on the bed. Trisha was quite content to lean back into him, her head pillowed against his strong shoulder.

Alone, at last, for the first time since Ren had arrived yesterday morning, Trisha's only desire was to fall asleep with Roy and little Rosa.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" she finally asked Roy, who had been abnormally silent ever since Rosa's first cry had pierced the air in their little bedroom.

Roy kissed the top of her head. "I love you."

A tired chuckle escaped her. "I love you, too. Though that wasn't what I meant. What are you doing in your head anyway, composing poetry?"

"If I was it would be pretty awful," Roy admitted. "My brains are nothing but mush right now."

"Your brain and my body." Trisha knew the aches would only last a couple of days, but she still felt the abuse and battering her body had taken in the process of labor. As soon as she felt better though, she couldn't wait to do things again, like sit up and get up off the couch without wobbling, and walking around the block without getting winded! Then she'd see about hitting the gym. "I mean, what do you think of Rosa?"

"What am I supposed to think?" Roy asked. "She's a baby. She's wrinkled, pink, and absolutely adorable."

"So no different from your baby sister?" Trisha teased, tiredly. Her anger at him yesterday morning had evaporated.

Roy gently began to massage her shoulders with his hands. "Well, she's also absolutely terrifying."

"How's that?"

"Well if she's anything like my sisters, most of my salary is going to be going into clothes, and then college."

"I have bad news," Trisha smiled, relishing the feel of his hands as they eased agonized shoulder muscles. "That was always going to be the case."

* * *

Family visits were kept brief, given the hour, but everyone crammed downstairs got a quick look and a chance to give out hugs and congratulations before they left. Winry, having been in and out of the room through-out, assisting Ren, waited until Maes and Elena and the girls had all had their few minutes, before going back in with Sara, Franz, and Ed.

Of all of them, Winry noticed with some amusement, the most relaxed were Franz and Ed. An interesting contrast considering she knew full well they had worried as much about Trisha as anyone else.

In this, the birth of a new great-grandchild, Winry was content to sit back and watch her own daughter, her oldest child, move into her own grandmother-hood.

"Enjoying yourself?" Ed asked, slipping an arm around her shoulder.

"I am," Winry smiled at him. "Look at how happy they all are."

Franz had finally wrangled a turn holding his granddaughter and he had a big grin on his face. Sara was talking with Trisha, who looked much better after a shower and clean bedding, sprawled out on the bed, resting comfortably. Even Roy was smiling, finally.

"Do you miss it?"

"What? Having babies?" Winry glanced at her husband. "No. We have plenty of grandchildren and great-grandchildren to make me quite happy enough, thank you. I've gotten used to getting sleep again. Why, do you miss having them?"

Ed shook his head emphatically. "Not a bit. Besides, we can always get a new puppy if we want something around that wets where you don't want it to until it's trained. Which reminds me, I should call and see how Mal is doing."

Winry couldn't help laughing. "I'm sure he's fine, Ed. But really, why the nostalgia?" He didn't seem upset, or even particularly pensive, but he had that air he got, when he was thinking about the past, or something equally deep.

"It's silly," Ed smiled. "I was just thinking about Mustang."

Winry didn't have to ask which one. "I'm sure he'd have an appropriately clever remark for the occasion." If the Flame Alchemist had lived to see his grandson marry their granddaughter, he'd have had loads to say at the wedding. Seeing this, the first child born of the blood of both, he'd probably have made some quip at Ed, but only to hide how emotional he'd be too.

For anyone who cared about lineage, little Rosa had quite a lot to live up to. Thankfully, Winry thought, all the baby had to worry about right now was if she was warm, dry, and fed. Which meant, of course, that Rosa had no worries at all.

* * *

Roy waited until Trisha and Rosa were fast asleep -Trisha on the bed, Rosa in her little basinet right next to the bed- before he finally slipped downstairs.

He hoped that there was something left over to eat from the night before. He had vaguely smelled Xingese sometime during the night, so he guessed that there was probably some in the refrigerator. Well, it would make a good enough breakfast at six in the morning, especially since it was his first real meal in twenty-four hours.

The place seemed to be empty. At least, that was what Roy thought until he noticed someone on the couch under a blanket. It took a moment in the dim light to realize it was his father.

Somehow, that fact was reassuring. Roy smiled as he went into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out the sack with the remaining Xingese food. His stomach was finally starting to get revenge on him for the neglect, and it was time to fill it while he had a moment's peace.

He had just finished reheating some sweet and sour pork with broccoli and rice when a shadow fell across the floor from the doorway. "Private dining or is there room for company?" his father asked.

"Sure."

Maes put on the kettle and sat down across from him. "I take it the girls are asleep."

Roy nodded and dug into his meal. "Yeah. As soon as Rosa fell asleep Trisha passed out."

"That's good," his father smiled. "She's earned a good rest." Then he cocked his head slightly and gave Roy an interested look. "So how are _you_ doing?"

"To be honest, I'm feeling kind of overwhelmed," Roy admitted. "Not in a bad way just… I feel so many things at once it's hard to sort them all out."

Maes chuckled. "Welcome to fatherhood."

"You mean it's always like this?" Roy wasn't sure he could survive eighteen plus years in this emotional state.

"No," Maes shook his head. "This is the mild stage."

_I knew it. I'm doomed._

**April 13****th****, 1976**

Breda sat looking down at his Xingese Go board, contemplating his next move. Sitting across from him, on the couch, his opponent was looking intensely at the board. To Breda's pleasure, Krista had turned out to be an inexperienced but enthusiastic player, and she picked up strategy quickly. So Breda enjoyed the chance to spend an entire Saturday afternoon teaching her some of the finer points of the game. It helped that the puppy-following of teenage boys wasn't there today.

He set down his next piece – he was playing black – and waited to see what Krista would do. If she was smart, she could keep that section alive. If she didn't see what he had just set up, she was in danger of losing nearly half the board.

Krista fingered her piece as she stared intently at the board. Breda didn't try and rush her. In the hallway, he heard a knock at the door, and Charisa's voice from the kitchen calling out, "I'll get it."

"Don't worry about it," Tore called back, and Breda heard his son-in-law moving down the hallway. A moment later Breda heard the door open and footsteps coming in. "Wow, that didn't take you guys long."

"No one can accuse me of slowing down yet," Edward chuckled as he and Alphonse came into view.

Breda snickered as he looked up at the brothers. "No, but some of us wish you would just a little."

"Maybe when there are less interesting things to do," Al suggested.

"Is it more important than interrupting our game?" Breda asked, turning back to Krista, only to find the girl had gone stock still and was looking –not quite staring- at Ed and Al. Or, at least, Ed.

"Is it about my father?" she asked breathlessly.

"As a matter of fact." Ed held up a white envelope with what looked like a Cretan seal on it.

Krista bounced to her feet so fast she almost knocked over the board, which Breda barely saved. _So much for a good game._

"Now calm down," Ed grinned as Breda moved the board out of the way for later and Ed took Krista's vacated spot on the couch, pulling out several reports from the envelope. "I can't promise any of this is going to be as useful as we all _hope_ it will be, but I expect we'll find out _something_ useful."

"Do I want to know how you got those reports?" Breda asked curiously as Tore and Al crowded in around the table as well.

"It wasn't hard," Ed admitted. "I just gave an old friend a call."

"President Argyros?" Tore asked.

"Doubtful," Al shook his head. "It's not good policy for the President of a country to go sending old military reports to foreigners, especially not if they used to be part of a foreign military, even if you are on friendly terms."

"Nope, not him," Ed nodded, spreading out the papers. "I called his brother instead."

Krista looked confused, and Tore amused. Breda couldn't help a snort. "Of course. If anyone would be able to weasel those out of obsolescence it would be Ziro."

The papers were, of course, in Cretan.

"What do they say?" Krista asked, leaning in a little.

"Don't you read Cretan?" Tore looked a little surprised.

"Not well," Krista shook her head. "My mother was Amestrian, and we lived in Amestris. My father well… I thought he was Cretan, but look how that turned out."

"Don't worry, we'll translate," Al promised her.

"Thanks," Krista squeaked.

Breda didn't try craning his neck to see what was in the documents. He'd hear soon enough, so he settled back in his comfy over-stuffed chair and sipped his iced tea.

Ed, with Al lurking over his shoulder, following along, read through everything quickly before he said anything. "Well, that's an interesting coincidence."

"What is?" Tore asked.

"There was a raid on an alchemical facility –not a legal one- about twenty miles inside the Cretan border just two days before Dumais' death. The report doesn't give much on what they found there, other than that several people were arrested, but as many as ten may have escaped. Further reports show no later arrests. There were at least twenty-five people in the lab. Several of them claimed to have been ratted out by an alchemist with a funny accent. They assumed he was Amestrian."

"Do you think that's what happened?" Krista blurted out, eyes wide. "Maybe my father knew something about what was going on in that lab, and he reported them."

"Or he was working with them in the first place," Ed replied, still looking thoughtfully at the report. "His notes make it very clear that he was interested in finding a way to re-open the gate and successfully travel through it again; at least, what we've managed to decode so far. There are also implications that he wasn't working alone in some of his research."

"Sounds like this lab might be worth checking out."

"So would the old house, and the storage in West City," Ed nodded.

"When can we go?"

"We?" Ed looked at Krista. All eyes moved towards the girl, and she blushed, but looked them head on.

"He's my father. If he's from some other world, I want to know about it. I mean, he was here long enough to meet Mom, and have me, and I want to know if these guys killed him or what." There was an intensity in the girl's eyes that Breda hadn't seen before, not quite feverish, not quite obsession, but definitely a girl desperate to find a truth to hold on to that didn't completely uproot her entire view of her childhood and her parents.

"Fair enough," Ed agreed.

"Hold on," Tore cut in, looking surprisingly stern. "While I don't think this is a bad idea, I can't let Krista just go running off to West City, possibly Creta. It's still school, and while she's living here, Charisa and I still have to act as her guardians. She can't leave the country without at least one of us."

"So come along," Ed grinned. "You know you want to."

Breda's son-in-law rolled his eyes. "Yes, I do. But I have no idea if I can get off work that long, and we just brought Camelia home, and.."

"Wow, you're starting to sound awfully responsible," Ed prodded him verbally. "You work at HQ. Talk to Whitewater and tell him this mission bears looking into, especially if it might involve murder on Amestrian soil. He was already involved in getting the Amestrian records."

_And it all stays safely in the family, right, Ed?_ Breda tried not to shake his head.

Tore shook his head. "You think of everything, don't you? But what about the house…"

Charisa came into Breda's view again as she kissed Tore's cheek. "Oh, go along on this mad quest if you want to. It won't be until summer, right? We'll have plenty of time to get things settled and planned before then, and it's not like Dad isn't here to help with the kids, right Dad?" She looked at Breda.

"Oh, of course not," Breda nodded, though for a moment he felt a twinge of disappointment. He had to admit, he was getting excited about this mission of theirs. It had been so long since he'd left Central and done something like this… even if it was a bunch of alchemists going off to talk alchemy, he was a little tired of arm-chair adventures that didn't go further than a storybook on a rainy afternoon.

Charisa gave him a piercing look. "You want to go too, don't you?"

That got everyone's attention. Breda shrugged. "Well you've got my interest piqued. But I doubt these guys want me along, slowing them down," he gestured at the rest of the room. "It's not like I'd be much help."

"You sure you don't want to come?" Ed was looking at him intently now. "It's not like your brain wouldn't be useful in solving this little mystery."

"This is alchemist work," Breda shook his head. "If you need my brain, you can afford a long distance call. Me hoofing it all over the countryside wouldn't be helpful to you, or good for me." He knew Ed and Al; there would be a lot of walking, and he didn't have a hope of keeping up if they actually managed to hunt down any of these possible alchemists-in-hiding who had been doing reportedly illegal research that hadn't been covered in these low-security documents. Though Breda wondered what Ed hadn't read out loud. Surely Ziro wouldn't have sent anything that wasn't more useful than that.

"Your call," Ed shrugged.

"But you'd be welcome of you change your mind," Al cut in assuredly.

"Does this mean we're going?" Krista asked. She was now looking hopefully at Tore.

Tore sighed. "Yes, if I can get permission to go, we can all go."

"Thank you." Krista looked like she was resisting the urge to jump up and throw her arms around Tore. She had certainly twitched where she stood, and every muscle was tensed with excitement.

Al was looking amused. "Now all we have to do is break the news to the girls."


	8. Chapter 8

**April 15****th****, 1976**

"So what do you think?" Tore asked Cal as they sat across from each other in the crowded lunch room at HQ –oddly enough the best place for a private conversation, given the general noise level.

Cal gave him an amused look. "I think you don't need to get time off approved. We'll call it an official mission, you can investigate, and if there's anything worth reporting, you let me know when you're done. Simple as that. Taking subject matter experts along is just smart thinking at that point."

Tore blinked, and then felt a little foolish. Of course Cal wanted him to go on this mission. He'd been helping with it. "I just wasn't sure if I was needed for anything more pressing."

"I'm sure we can work without you for a couple of weeks," Cal waved it off. "Besides, I'm a little jealous. At least one of us gets away from the desk for a while."

"You could always assign yourself more out of town work," Tore pointed out, though he knew what Cal's answer would be.

Cal scoffed and shook his head. "Yeah, but I like being married."

* * *

Dinner conversation at Sara's that night, unsurprisingly, came quickly around to the subject of Ed's latest adventure-in-the-making. While he and Winry ate with Sara, Franz, James, and Ted, Ed outlined the mission and just a few of the details that had been uncovered so far. Sara knew –had known long since- of the rather wild adventures of her parents before her birth, though much of the truth –the important secrets- had not been revealed until she was old enough to keep her mouth shut. Franz, as part of the family now, knew only the basics, and then mostly only what good security clearance at HQ could get him. The other side of the gate, another world; ge was keenly interested, as were the boys, though Ed had expected as much from them, especially Ted.

"So when are you leaving?" Sara asked over everyone's second helpings of steak, mashed potatoes, and peas.

"Since we're taking Krista, we thought we'd stay until school gets out for the summer, and leave then," Ed replied.

"I want to go!" Ted blurted out.

Ed looked at his grandson, unsurprised by the enthusiasm. He had anticipated that response. "Well I figured you would. Talk to your parents. If they'll let you stay here that long, and go with me, then I'll allow it. I can't promise it's going to be highly exciting."

"I want to go, too," James said.

Ed almost dropped his fork full of potatoes as he looked with surprise at his other grandson. "You do?" James had never had much interest in alchemy.

"Yeah, I do," James replied, looking at him intently, though his cheeks were turning red. "I… for Krista. She's my friend. I want to help, if I can."

James and Ted exchanged dirty looks, and Ed managed not to groan outwardly; just what he needed, two love-struck idiots trailing along. He'd heard about the fight, though only from Sara and Ethan, who had differing opinions on the issue as far as the severity of the situation. Ed wasn't sure how worried he was, but if James was willing to get in a fist fight with Ted over the girl, the infatuation was certainly bad enough. "Can I trust both of you to be professional?" he asked. "If this is a formal mission for Tore, we can't just go barging around doing whatever we please."

"Which might be part of why HQ is okay with letting you go," Sara commented with a sly smile.

"Oh I'm sure." Not that Ed was really worried about it. Likely all they'd be doing was rifling through old dusty boxes and maybe a couple of empty building sites. He wasn't looking to bust things up; he was quite happy not to get himself beat up as often anymore. "Well?" he gave both teenagers a glower. "I don't want to have to break up any fights on this trip. We don't have time for that nonsense."

He knew it sounded odd coming from him, of all people –and Ed was sure Winry was probably close to laughing- but he meant it. Fighting over a girl who would be on the mission as well was not something he would tolerate. And he knew Ted already had ambitions of being a State Alchemist. It was time to get a little professional experience.

James and Ted both sobered under his glare, and then each nodded silently and mumbled, "Yes, Grandpa."

"All right, then if your mothers agree, I'll consider it."  
James looked hopefully at Sara, who shot Ed a dirty glare of her own before relenting. "Since it's summer vacation, why not?"

"Thanks, Mom!" James leaned over and startled his mother by giving her an enthusiastic hug.

Ted looked a bit worried, and Ed could guess why. He was going to have to convince Cassie to let him stay till the end of school, and then run off to the border for another couple of weeks. Ed wasn't sure if Cassie would allow it.

* * *

"I'm not sure what I've let myself in for," Ed admitted as he strolled back to Al and Elicia's house with Winry after dinner; his arm loosely around her shoulders in the chill evening air.

"Even if they both go, I'm sure it will be fine," Winry commented. "They're normally both fairly level-headed boys. Impressive given how much Ted reminds me of you at some moments."

"But we'll have Krista along too," Ed pointed out. "This whole mission is about her in a way. I don't want the guys putting her out. I don't want friction between them to get out of hand. But she has a right to go, and so does Ted if Cassie will let him. James is smart, we can use him too if he doesn't let this get in the way." He blew out air in frustration. "This was a fairly straight forward mission until this evening."

"You can handle them," said Winry. "After all, they're just teenagers."

"Just teenagers… right." Ed rolled his eyes then gave Winry's shoulders a squeeze. "Are you sure you don't want to come?" he asked. She had told him she didn't, but it worried him a little. It wasn't like she had anything pressing she had to do here or at home now. He'd have thought she would have leapt at the chance for a little trip with him.

Winry smiled. "I'm sure, Ed. It'll be all right. This is your trip, a bunch of alchemists and brains running off to solve a mystery. Sure I'm interested in finding out more of what's happened since we came back from the other world. But I'd be bored digging through all that old stuff, and you know it. Besides," she added, "There are actually things I'd like to do here. I want to spend more time with family while I can, and Gracia and I already have plans to work on a project, and Riza wants to hang out. I'll hardly be bored, and maybe I'll discover a new hobby to take the place of not having nearly so much paperwork to do. You don't need me there."

That was a far less worrisome response than Ed could have hoped for. It made perfect sense, and he couldn't blame her. "I'll always need you."

"That's sweet." Winry paused and on instinct, Ed did the same, and they kissed briefly under the stars before continuing to walk on. "I think," Winry said after a couple of minutes of companionable silence, "That the problem you might have on this trip doesn't have to do with Krista liking or not liking James and Ted."

"Then what do you think it is?" Ed asked curiously, wondering what piece of female intuition he was about to be handed.

"I don't think they're the males she has a crush on." The twinkle in her eye was unmistakable.

"Me?" Ed sputtered, stopping again. "What would a kid see in an old man like me?"

Winry laughed. "Remember, you said it."

"Not funny, Winry."

"Well I wouldn't call it real interest," Winry admitted, tugging on his arm to convince him to move again. "More like a classic case of hero worship. You need to go a little easy on her, Edward."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Sometimes women just didn't make sense, even after all this time, being married, raising a daughter, his granddaughters… women.

"Be a little less… you?" Winry suggested with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "I'm not sure if the full, unabridged Fullmetal Alchemist would make her more impressed or shatter her dreams, but you're an awfully strong personality to get used to, and I get the feeling she was raised on your legendary heroism; yours and Al's both."

Ed had a sixty-watt realization. "So that's why she jumps every time we're in the room. Half the time she can't seem to squeak out two words either."

"You noticed?" Winry teased. "I'm almost impressed."

"Ha ha." The girl might be infatuated with _him, _or at least, the Fullmetal Alchemist. Ed wasn't sure he wanted to know how it would play out of James and Ted found out about _that._

**April 16****th****, 1976**

There were days Charisa loved her job, days she got annoyed with the people she worked with among the various employees who worked for the Assemblymen, and days when she didn't mind at all her favorite job; being a mother. She had the most wonderfully eclectic group of children, and she couldn't have felt happier. Especially on a day when she was home with them instead of with the bigger babies that sometimes worked for the government.

She had taken the morning off because her father had a doctor's appointment, and it was easier to stay home and take him than try and shuffle everything. So once Dare and Krista were off to school, and Tore to HQ, she had simply piled her father, Brandon, and Camelia into the car and gone over.

Fortunately this had been a routine visit, and she had waited in the waiting room for her father to be done with the doctors, and then they had driven home. With plenty of time to spare before she had to go back after lunch, Charisa started making the midday meal.

When she came back out into the living room, she found her father, with Camelia on his lap and Brandon stuffed in the chair next to him, flipping through what looked like old photo albums.

"So who's that dashing soldier?" Charisa teased lightly as she recognized old photos of what she knew to be Mustang's old staff. She stepped up behind the chair for a better look.

"Jean Havoc."

"Not that one," Charisa thwapped the back of her father's head lightly with her palm.

"Must be Mustang then."

"Don't be silly."

"Girl, if anyone had called me dashing back then, I wouldn't have been single when I turned fifty."

"Lucky for Niam and I then," Charisa smiled and bent down and kissed her father's cheek. "Reminiscing?" she asked, wondering why he'd pulled those old photos out now. It wasn't something he did very often. Charisa suspected he didn't like being reminded of his mortality. Havoc, Mustang, Hughes; he'd known a lot of good men who had died over the years; good friends.

"Maybe a little," Breda nodded as he flipped a page in the photo album. "Those were some good times, despite the insane missions Mustang used to send us out on fairly regularly."

"So why don't you go with Tore and Edward and Alphonse?" Charisa asked. "They said you could come along, and I get the feeling you'd enjoy it."

That earned her a sigh and a shake of the head. "They don't need me along," he insisted. "I'd just slow them down. There's always a phone if they want to pick my brain. Besides, I'm needed here."

"I can handle three kids by myself for a couple of weeks if I need to," Charisa pointed out. "It's not like I wouldn't have at least a half dozen volunteers to help out."

"No, I don't think so." Breda shook his head again. "I'm too old."

"Edward and Alphonse are in their late seventies!"

"And I'm older than they are," he grumbled. "Look, leave it alone, Charisa. I've made up my mind."

A sudden thought occurred to her, sending a chill up her spine. "Dad, did something happen at the office today? You and the doctor both said everything was fine."

His grouchy expression softened as he looked up at her. "It's nothing like that. Don't worry about it. Even if I'd lied, you know the Doc wouldn't. I'm just not up for it anymore. Let them run all over the countryside. I'd find myself spending most of it wondering why I was crazy enough to go in the first place. Instead, I can be here, spending my time where I want to most, with these guys." Brandon was staring at the pictures in rapt fascination, unaware of the somber conversation going on above his head. Camelia just giggled and reached up, tugging at Breda's nose.

Charisa couldn't help it. She chuckled. She also felt the knot in her stomach ease. "Well I'm honored that I'm more interesting than an adventure, and I'm sure the kids will appreciate it. Someday, when they're old enough to understand how important that kind of time is."

"Gampa!" Brandon sat up suddenly and tugged at Breda's arm.

"What is it?" he turned his attention away from Charisa.

"I gotta go potty!"

Breda snickered as he closed the album and handed Camelia off to Charisa. "See. Duty calls."

* * *

Aldon watched Cassie as she sat in the living room on the phone. He knew Ted was on the other line, begging permission to stay in Central through the last few weeks of school and then run off to West City with two old men, Tore, a cute girl, and his cousin.

It sounded like a recipe for a very amusing story, but Aldon could just bet Cassie smelled disaster.

Aldon looked back down at the report he was writing up for tomorrow's budgetary meeting. No rest for a weary mayor. Not that he would have it any other way. The past couple of years had been extremely satisfying, despite the –mostly expected- challenges. There was, at the moment, some serious contention over the extension of the local sewage and water system to allow more houses to go on city water instead of relying on wells. While some people were all for this, others were surprisingly adamant against it.

Mal, his father's giant furry white beast, lay under the table at Aldon's feet, snoozing; Aldon could tell by the occasional snores coming from beneath his paperwork. He had been amused at the fact his father called every few days just to check on the dog. Not that he said as much, but he always asked after him.

"Well, your teacher says that all the work you've sent back so far is excellent," he heard Cassie admitting over the phone. The long-distance work certainly wasn't hurting Ted's academic standing. Not that this surprised Aldon. His Dad wouldn't have let Ted slip on the academics, not if he wanted to make a first rate alchemist.

Aldon sat back a moment, and stretched, popping several vertebrae in his spine. "Let him go," he commented softly. He couldn't see any harm in it. While he missed having his youngest son around, it didn't sound like a particularly dangerous proposition.

Cassie glanced over at him, showing she had heard him. She gave him a short, unreadable look then turned her attention back to the phone. "All right, all right. Your father and I agree that you can go, as long as you have all your school work sent in before you leave and your teacher has no complaints."

Aldon could hear the whoop that came over the line from the other end, and he smiled.

A minute later Cassie hung up the phone and joined him at the table. "Do you really think it's a good idea to let him go?"

"Would it have been a better one to make him come home?" Aldon asked in return. "He'll have Dad, Uncle Al, and Tore along. It's not like he'll be in any real danger, unless he dies from boredom."

"Are you kidding?" Cassie shook her head and went to pour herself a cup of tea. "He'll probably enjoy digging through dusty boxes and looking at books, even if he can't read them." There was hesitation in her voice on that one.

"Something wrong?" Aldon asked.

Cassie shook her head. "I guess, it's just still difficult to wrap my head around, this other world. I know you told me about that years ago, but it didn't seem like it mattered. It wasn't part of life, more of an academic fact."

Aldon stood up and moved behind her, his hands resting gently on her shoulders. "And you're worried that Ted's going to want to try and find a way to get there aren't you?"

"Aren't you worried?" Cassie asked. "Even a little?"

"Honestly? No, I'm not." He kissed her cheek. "For all his enthusiasm, Ted's not nearly impulsive enough to leap into something he knows is that stupid."

"What about that fight with James?"

Aldon snorted. "That? I think on his part that was entirely a calculated move."

* * *

"They said yes!" Ted punched his fist in the air with a whoop as he hung up Aunt Sara's phone. He wasn't at all worried about his mother's stipulation about his school work. He could turn what was left out in record time if he had to, and without missing a thing. He'd already read through the rest of half the textbooks anyway.

Uncle Franz smiled at his enthusiasm. "Then I guess it'll be quite the crew, won't it?"

Ted nodded, not bothering to hide his relief, though half of it was because his aunt and uncle had already given James permission to go. If he got left out of an alchemical research trip and left James alone with Krista for that long… it would be worse than agony. Now he might have a chance to really get in good with her. "Yep! It's going to be great."

James did not look thrilled but he shrugged casually and put on a smile that Ted suspected didn't fool Uncle Franz much, but the older man didn't say anything else as he left the room and headed upstairs. "Guess you think that means this is going to be easy, don't you?" James asked coolly as he looked up over his book.

Ted shrugged. "It evens the field," he replied. "Or maybe not. After all, I'm the alchemist." Krista was all about alchemy at the moment. It gave them something to talk about that James couldn't do. Of course, he liked talking to her for her own sake, but he couldn't help but admit it was nice to be smarter than James at something. His cousin was really his only competition in the brains department.

"How about a deal?" James suggested.

"What kind of a deal?" Ted asked, suspicious, but curious at the same time. This had the air of something particularly interesting.

"A simple one," James shrugged as he set down his book. "Neither one of us asks Krista out while we're out of Central. If Grandpa and Great-Uncle Al think we're going to be trouble, they'll probably ship us both home. Now, that doesn't mean we can't do other things, but the one who gets to ask her out afterwards is the one she likes more."

"And how are we going to determine that?" Ted snorted. He had a feeling that they'd never agree if she didn't show some kind of obvious favor. "Smells fishy."

"Scared?"

"I didn't say that," Ted snapped, then took a deep breath. James was needling him. He couldn't give in. He had to keep his cool. "I just want to know what kind of evidence we're going to be using to make that decision."

"How about a third party?" James suggested.

Well, that seemed reasonable. "Who? Grandpa would never go for it," Ted pointed out. He doubted Al would either.

"How about Tore?" James suggested. "I've heard all sorts of stories. He's supposed to know loads about women, and Krista's been living at his house. We let him decide."

"Only we can't tell him too much beforehand," Ted nodded thoughtfully. "Or it might sway the results. But we have to say something so he can keep some kind of eye out. Though if he's as smart as all that, he'll probably notice anything obvious enough to count."

"We could just tell him we're worried about Krista," James suggested. "It's true after all."

That much, they could agree on. Ted nodded and held out his hand. "All right, you've got a deal."

James took his hand, and they shook on it.


	9. Chapter 9

**May 12****th****, 1976**

Tore took one last look over the contents of his suitcase. He thought he had everything. It was weird to be going on an official mission but taking almost nothing in the way of uniform. There was one, in case he actually needed it. Beyond that, this was plain-clothes, and casual ones at that. It was kind of nice actually. He still felt like wearing the uniform out of Central sometimes felt like he was painting a target on his body. He would probably always feel that way.

"Are you going to stare at your clothes all evening?" Charisa asked with a smile as she came into the bedroom. "And you complain it takes me forever to pack."

"Well I'd hate to get myself shot because I'm a horrible fashion disaster," Tore chuckled, turning and taking her in his arms for a kiss.

"That would be a crime," Charisa agreed when their lips parted. She hugged him close. "I really hope that this turns out to be nothing but an information gathering mission."

"Me too. Trust me, I've had enough excitement," Tore promised her, feeling a twinge of guilt. "Are you sure this is okay? Me running off and leaving you with all three kids?" And stealing their new babysitter in the process.

"I think we'll manage. It's not like my father won't be able to help out quite a bit." Charisa reached up and pushed a lock of his hair out of his eyes. "You need a haircut."

"I always need a haircut." Tore laughed. "It can wait until I get back." He gazed into her beautiful face. "I'm going to miss you."

Charisa's face flushed with pleasure. "Good. I'd be very upset if you didn't. So go solve Krista's mystery and come home. I know you won't until it's done. You were just as driven to find out the truth when you were a kid."

"I'm glad you understand." Tore hugged her close again, relishing the feel of her, the scent of her hair. "You're amazing."

Charisa's grip on him tightened. "So are you."

**May 13****th****, 1976**

Ed peeked over the top of edge of his hand of cards at Al, who sat across from him, the suitcase on their laps a familiar makeshift table. He couldn't be sure if Al was bluffing. His poker face had improved over the years.

"Is this all you do on train rides?" Tore asked as he dropped down on the seat next to Ed.

"Nope." Ed discarded two and took two from the draw pile.

"We'll stop for dinner," Al snickered.

Tore shook his head, but grinned. It wasn't as if he hadn't been on a few of these trips with them over the years.

"So where's the other half of our motley band?" Ed joked. He doubted Tore had left them alone for long, especially not as seriously as he was taking keeping an eye on Krista.

"In the dining car," Tore replied. "Ted's trying to eat the entire food budget before we get to West City I think."

At that, Ed laughed. "Only Ted? James isn't much better these days." The older boy was shooting straight up lately. He was definitely going to have Franz' height. He was already taller than Sara.

"He's trying to get Krista to get her nose out of that set of German language notes you gave her and talk to him."

"There's a change of pace," Al commented, shifting cards in his hand.

"The boys are up to something," Tore said then. "They made a point of telling me they were worried about Krista, and I should keep an eye on her. Then they're always with her, but almost only one at a time."

"Sounds like you're part of a scheme." Ed watched Al discard and draw one card.

"So keep an eye on all of them," Al suggested. "We are, and I'd guess that's actually what they want."

"They want me to watch them both try and pick up the same girl?" Tore sounded skeptical. Ed couldn't really blame him for that.

"I think they want you to notice Krista's responses to their attempts to get her attention," Ed elaborated. He had given it a little thought ever since he realized the problem. He had also noticed the change in how the boys behaved towards each other and with Krista. They were downright civil when they were all talking, but each was now pointedly staying out of the other's way when it came to getting chances to engage Krista in conversation.

Ed glanced sideways.

Tore looked thoughtful. "I'm a witness to see who she likes better. Not a bad plan… for teenagers."

"They're not thinking entirely with their brains on this one." Ed took a last look at his hand and laid out his cards. "Full house."

Al sighed and laid out his hand. "Three of a kind."

Ed collected his winnings –in this case they were literally playing for peanuts.

"I'm not sure I like being referee," Tore grumbled. "But I've been keeping an eye on her anyway. She's been through a lot lately, and frankly those two had better behave or I'll leave them both at a train station somewhere with their clothes transmuted into strait jackets."

Ed snorted. That was a rather amusing image. "I suspect you'll find them both on their very best behavior." And if not, being dumped somewhere would be the least of their worries.

**May 14****th****, 1976**

Vegetarian cooking was actually an enjoyable challenge. Winry didn't do it often – Ed was rather fond of meat – but visiting Ethan and Lia gave her a chance to try out a couple of recipes since she knew Silvia would enjoy them. So tonight she had made a rich vegetable stew, then apportioned one part out for Silvia, and proceeded to add more herbs and spices to the rest, more to the tastes of her youngest son.

Ethan had clearly appreciated her efforts, since he had polished off four helpings, along with toasted garlic bread. Each of the boys had eaten three helpings. Everyone else had been satisfied with seconds.

When dinner was over, Winry insisted on washing the dishes too.

"You don't have to do that, Mom," Ethan objected, starting to get up off the couch.

"Oh let me feel useful," Winry glared at him, then chuckled, spoiling the effect. "I don't get to visit nearly enough, and you've been hard at work all day."

"Well I can't argue with that," Ethan admitted, grinning as he leaned back again and went back to scratching Brigitte behind her pointy little ears.

"You mean with your new interns you don't get free time?" Lia teased her husband. She sat in the overstuffed arm chair, hand-stitching name tags into Lily and Eamon's clothes. The twins were going off to summer camp in a week and would be gone for a month. This was their first time going, and both kids were excited. At the moment they were upstairs pouring over books they had gotten from the library on everything from wild animals to canoeing.

Ethan snorted. "Free time? I'm spending any time I had before training my interns!"

"Well that is why they're there isn't it? To learn." Winry smiled, her hands submerged in hot soapy water as she listened to the banter. She had been very glad when Ethan and Ren's practice had grown profitable enough that they had hired first an actual receptionist to handle the front desk and general filing, and then they had gotten two advanced medical students who were also alchemists. They were learning the finer points of alchemical healing from Ren and Ethan.

"They're actually doing a good job of that, and helping with the patient load," Ethan admitted. "But it doesn't mean I don't have plenty to do. What I do has just shifted focus sometimes."

"It's like being a teacher on break," Lia agreed with a sigh. "I don't really have a vacation. Not with summer school coming up, and lessons to have ready for that, and next fall's lesson plans need to be finalized and updated. Plus finding things to do with these three," she nodded towards the upstairs. Aeddan was upstairs languishing over not being old enough to follow the twins to camp. No camp would take a boy who wasn't even five.

"No rest for the happy," Winry quipped. "Ed and I were always busy and loved every moment of it." Well almost every minute. Balancing the Auto-mail business, the military's business, and the particular individual challenges of Sara, Aldon, and Ethan had been wonderful and sometimes frustrating. But that was parenting. That was life.

"Oh and we do," Ethan assured her. "There's nothing better than living comfortably with your family in your own home."

"Speaking of home…" Silvia spoke up quietly.

"What is it, Mom?" Lia asked as Winry finished the last dish and turned and came back into the living room.

Silvia, sitting on the other couch, looked like she had something serious to say and wasn't sure how it would be taken. "Well, I told you the other day my friend Diane's husband passed away. I was thinking, that maybe it was time I moved back home to South City."

"What?" Ethan sat up abruptly and stared at his mother-in-law.

Lia also looked startled, though not quite as surprised. "Has Diane asked you to?"

"Not in so many words," Silvia shook her head. "But she's my best friend, and I know how she feels and, frankly… I just miss home. I grew up in South City. It was nice when we moved back when you were a girl. But I don't want to just up and go and leave you shorthanded here." She seemed to be particularly focused on Ethan.

Winry watched her son look for words. A few years ago, he'd wanted nothing more than to see Silvia out of his house and things back to the way they were. Now, they had long since come to a reasonable balance of compromises that seemed to work. Silvia was also more flexible than she had been before moving in with them.

"If that's what you want, Silvia, than I wish you the best," Ethan said after a few moments. "But I'll be sorry to see you go."

"Really?" Silvia smiled.

"Yes, really," Ethan chortled. "And I know the kids will miss you."

"We'll have to make plans to visit South City is all," Lia cut in. "If you want to move back, Mom, than do what makes you happy. Diane's your best friend."

Silvia stood and moved over to the chair and hugged her daughter. "Thank you, Lia. And you," she glanced over at Ethan. "I've enjoyed being here these last few years and I'm going to miss you all terribly, but I'm ready to go home again."

Winry smiled. Between their years in both Central and Resembool, she understood exactly what Silvia meant.

**May 16****th****, 1976**

Tore watched the landscape of Western Amestris flow by outside the train windows, rolling past long enough only for a glimpse and a moment of wonder before it was gone, replaced by another scene, another view, another small town. This far south it wasn't quite as mountainous as the parts he had seen as a teenager, or a couple of years later in the war against Drachma. Those mountains loomed in the distance, but Tore was grateful they weren't going up into them on this trip. Too many memories he would rather not dwell on were tied up in those hills. This was not that kind of trip.

He just hoped they didn't find enemy alchemists on the other end of this one. That seemed to happen far too often in his line of work, and no matter how confidently Ed took teenagers into danger on a regular basis, Tore still had reservations. Ted might be an alchemist and a fighter, but James and Krista were neither, and Krista was _his_ responsibility.

"Mr. Closson?"

Tore looked up from the window and looked at Krista, who had entered the compartment. He smiled. "Did you want something?"

"I had a question." Krista shifted uneasily.

Tore motioned for her to take a seat across from him. "Go ahead."

Krista sat down before looking at him again. "Why are you doing this?"

Well now, that was an interesting question. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it seems strange that you would go through all this trouble just for me," Krista replied. "You barely know me. So, is it just a mission? Is it curiosity? What do you get out of all this?"

"Would you believe me if I said it was because I understand?"

Now it was Krista's turn to look seriously confused. "Does this have something to do with you having been fostered by the Elrics?"

"It's a little more complicated than that." Tore had been expecting to have to explain eventually. Now was as good a time as any. "But that's part of it. I understand the burning need to know what happened to your parents, and to understand who you are. My father died before I was born. My mother disappeared when I was ten. Literally disappeared; I came home one day from school and she was gone. The State picked me up, and I spent the next year breaking out of foster homes trying to find out what happened to my mother. It was Fullmetal who caught me one day."

"What were you doing?" Krista asked, eyes wide.

"Picking his pockets, actually," Tore chuckled. "I wasn't a very smart eleven-year-old. Anyway, Fullmetal realized I was using alchemy and the State was thrilled that there was someone willing to take me. But, long story short, Fullmetal put military investigations on the case and we ended up tracking my mother all the way to Drachma." He hated to bring things down, but the full story was important and he couldn't leave out the unpleasant parts. "Turned out my uncle had sold her to Drachman alchemists to use as a test subject after telling her that they might be able to cure her _hemolytia_. She didn't live long of course. She was dead long before we ever got there. I was only thirteen then. But at least I knew the truth, and we shut those alchemists down _hard_."

Krista's eyes had gotten progressively bigger throughout the story. "Wow," she said finally. "So this thing with my father…"

"I don't think we're going to find a group of alchemists committing taboo research," Tore assured her. "The Cretan police raided the place three years ago. But we may find out a lot about what was really going on. And yes, I think it's important that we do, even if it turns out to only be important to you." It might well be there was nothing at all left to interest the military.

Tears misted in Krista's eyes, though none fell. "Thank you."

"We haven't solved anything yet," Tore pointed out.

Krista nodded. "I know, but it's nice to be understood."

Tore smiled. He knew that feeling only too well. "Yes, it is."


	10. Chapter 10

**May 17****th****, 1976**

"Do you always have people staring while you're here?" Winry asked Riza quietly as she walked next to her friend down the sidewalk under the trees in the warm breeze and afternoon sunshine. Two twenty-somethings had nearly fallen all over themselves when they saw them coming, and stammered apologies as they scrambled out of the way.

"Of course," Riza chuckled. "Sometimes it pays to be legendary."

Winry couldn't help laughing along. "You sound like Roy."

"I'll take it as a compliment," Riza replied, smiling over her shoulder, and the rifle on her shoulder. "Though I'd like to think I still shoot better."

"Oh I'm sure of that," Winry replied as she looked around the grounds of the shooting range. Not that Roy had been a bad shot, as she understood. He just never had a chance of holding up against a trained sniper.

Winry didn't expect to do anywhere near as well as Riza today either, but the offer to spend the day together had included joining Riza for her usual afternoon trip to the range. Many days she still taught classes. Today they were just shooting for the fun of it. Riza refused to get out of practice. Given how useful her skills had been as recently as the disaster in Aerugo, Winry could see why. "You know, if we were a few decades younger, I might believe they were actually impressed by two hot chicks on the range."

Riza laughed. "I get propositioned at least twice a week by men who aren't much older than Maes. Though, usually, they're closer to our age."

"And yet the only person you go out with is Heymans?" Winry asked with a sly chuckle. She knew the two of them came to shoot together fairly often.

"That usually deters unwanted advances, yes," Riza replied, not at all offended. They reached their spot along the range, and she took the shotgun off her shoulder. "No one wants to risk offending a retired President of the Military."

"They aren't afraid of offending the wife of a former President of the Military?" Winry asked as she did the same.

"They think I'll be complimented." Riza rolled her eyes a little. "They usually don't like it when I call them little boys."

"I would imagine not," Winry agreed. "What about Heymans?"

"He doesn't call them little boys," Riza chuckled. "The terms he has are far more colorful, though he is smart enough not let them hear."

"Nice to know he has some tact." Winry watched as Riza lay down first and lined up her sights. "So you see quite a bit of each other."

"He has always been a good friend," Riza replied without nodding. It would have thrown off her aim. "It's nice to have someone to talk with who understands some things without having to say them."

That, Winry could understand only too well. She could imagine that shared loss was as strong a bond of friendship as other shared experiences. "So we shouldn't be concerning ourselves with a surprise elopement then."

At that, Riza did turn her head, and stared at Winry for a long moment before she realized the other woman was joking. Then Riza shook her head. "As I have told my caring and nosy family that is most definitely not a worry. Heymans is _still_ not my type." Then she turned her head, aimed, and put her first shot dead through the center of her target. The second one followed almost exactly on top of it. By the time she finished, the men on either side of them had all stopped to watch. Only when she stopped did one of them whistle in appreciation, and it clearly had nothing to do with their looks.

"You're still amazing," Winry commented as she looked at her friend's tight grouping. "I'm going to look like an absolute amateur next to you."

"You said you've gone out a couple of times at home," Riza pointed out. Of course, Riza had taught Winry how to shoot in the years Ed and Al were gone, but it wasn't something Winry had done outside of target practice then, or after. She had asked mostly to be familiar with the guns, and not afraid of them.

"A couple of times over several years." Winry said as she took position, willing the boys around them to look somewhere else. After Riza, there was no way she would put on much of a show. Winry would be happy as long as she hit her target. "That's hardly keeping in practice."

"This is true," Riza said as Winry lined up her sights on the target. "But it's better than nothing. Is it something you're thinking of doing more now that you have more time?"

"I'm considering it," Winry said, then she focused, and fired.

Six shots later, her target was speckled with holes, though almost none of them were actually near the center of her target.

Riza looked at and smiled at Winry. "I think you either need a lot more practice, or a different hobby."

Winry laughed at her friend's honesty. "I think you're right."

**May 20****th****, 1976**

"Thank you for your assistance," Tore said as he signed the property release forms on the desk. "You can send everything to this address."

Krista stood beside him, looking thoughtful. Tore knew she was both excited to be able to claim her father's belongings and disappointed that they hadn't immediately found evidence of Duar Dumais' death being anything other than an accident in what had been confiscated from the house for investigation. Tore hadn't told the officers here that, from what Ed and Al could tell, all of the notes in Amestrian or Cretan were essentially fakes designed to throw off anyone looking for his real notes. There was very little in military hands that had been written in German, and they still thought it was an elaborate code. Ed said that the one document in German was actually nothing more than a real grocery list.

"So, now what?" Krista asked when they had finished the paperwork and stepped outside the West HQ administrative building.

"Now we see what we can find at the house," Ed said with a confident grin.

"Do you really think we'll find more there?" Ted asked. "The military ransacked the place, didn't they?"  
The group of them began to walk towards the hotel in which they would be spending the night.

"I think no self-respecting alchemist leaves his real research where just anyone can find it," Ed replied. "His journals were just a start. The information we want will be at the source."

"What if it's not at the house?" Krista asked with a worried expression.

"Then we'll check out the lab."

"Do we have permission for that?" Al asked, chuckling.

"Argyros gave me permission himself," Ed replied, looking even more smug than usual. "I'd rather not have to invoke that authority –it draws too much attention- but we have it if we need it. Not that I think we're going to find more than an abandoned building from the sound of things. They disposed of any equipment and alchemical supplies of any kind that they found."

"But there might be something they haven't found," said James.

"Exactly," Ed nodded before stopping dead on the sidewalk.

"Think of something?" Tore asked with burning curiosity.

Then there was an audible grumble and Ed nodded sideways, at the store front to their right. "How does and all-you-can-eat buffet sound for dinner?"

Tore looked up at the sign that said "Argo's Eatery – Cretan, Amestrian, Aerugean" and shook his head.

Al looked much less surprised. He laughed. "It sounds affordable."

Ed grinned. "Good. Let's eat!"

* * *

James lay on his back on the bed in the hotel room he was sharing with Ted and Grandpa Ed. Great-Uncle Al and Uncle Tore had the next room. Krista got one to herself.

At the moment James was alone. Grandpa and Ted were both talking alchemy with Tore, Al, and even Krista. James had left when the conversation got too complex even for his capable intellect, as it moved into pure alchemical theory.

It frustrated him. James hated to admit it, but he was jealous of Ted's knowledge of alchemy. The older alchemists listened to his ideas, and even if they had a counter-argument, they seemed pleased with his answers. It was an area in which James shared no expertise.

Krista, well, she seemed to hang on every word the alchemists said even that which went beyond her limited knowledge of alchemy. The way she looked at his grandfather, you'd have thought he was an ancient god or something. James wondered if Ted had noticed Krista's fascination… he almost wanted to call it a crush, which nearly killed him to think it. _Grandpa?_ How was he supposed to get Krista's attention when his primary competition wasn't his younger cousin anymore? He knew, logically, that Grandpa would never be interested in a girl her age. He loved Grandma Winry. But that didn't mean Krista's emotions were logical.

The door creaked open, but James ignored it. It didn't matter if it was Ted or Grandpa in his given mood. James didn't really feel like talking to either one of them.

"James?"

It was Krista. Immediately, he sat up and tried not to look flustered. "Oh, hi. Did you… want something?"

"Just to talk," she said, looking embarrassed now, and a little unsure. "But if you're busy—"

"I'm not!" James blurted, feeling a bit foolish. "I mean, I was just thinking, but not about anything important. What did you want to talk about?" He felt a little thrill of hope. She had sought him out to talk!

Krista sat down on the other bed, opposite him, her knees almost touching his. "Fullmetal."

His good mood popped. "Grandpa, what about him?" Oh no. James hoped he wasn't going to have to hear her gush about him all evening.

"My father always used to talk about Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and his brother. He had endless stories of their adventures and nothing but praise for their abilities. He always wanted to meet them, but we never traveled. He couldn't be away from his work, he said." Krista swallowed. "Are all the stories true? I thought Dad was exaggerating, but being around them, I _want_ to believe the stories, even the outlandish ones. Dad would have loved this."

So this was about her father. James felt guilty for his earlier ill feelings. He smiled. "Knowing Grandpa, the wilder the story the truer it probably is. He and Great-Uncle Al have done all sorts of crazy things… like crossing this Gate, twice."

"You have a point." Krista smiled back at him. "No wonder Daddy admired them so much."

"Well he must have been quite an alchemist himself, to come through from the other side," James pointed out. He still wasn't entirely sure how he felt about this Gate business. It wasn't exciting. In fact it was pretty unnerving. James felt some things shouldn't be messed with. The nature of the universe was one of them.

But that didn't need to be said to Krista, not at the moment. It probably wouldn't go over well.

"He was," Krista replied, though her smile faded. "But I wonder what he was up to that got him killed. I'm sure it had to do with his research."

"That's what we're here to find out," James pointed out. "And we won't leave until we do."

"Thanks, James." The smile returned to her face, and James thought he might melt. She was so pretty when she smiled. He resisted the urge to lean across the space and try to kiss her. That would be too much too fast, and he doubted she was in a receptive mood at the moment.

Instead he reached out and squeezed her hand.

Krista squeezed back. "I did have another question," she broke the quiet after several moments. "But it's about you."

"Me?" His stomach flopped again.

"Yeah. I was wondering what you wanted to do, you know, after high school. For some reason I've never asked."

James shrugged, regretting when Krista let go of his hand. "I haven't really decided," he admitted. "I've thought about joining the military police, or maybe the military as an officer and aiming for investigations."

"Really?" Krista blinked. "Somehow I figured you for the college type."

"And I've thought about that too." James had spent quite a lot of time thinking about it. "I just don't know what area of study I would want to focus on." There were so many that interested him.

"Brainiac."

"Yep," he grinned. "I just want to apply whatever I study and do something worthwhile with it. I'm not really into politics or medicine. I don't really want to teach either."

"Why not?" Krista asked curiously.

James stretched out his legs. "Because I don't have any patience for stupidity and slackers."

Krista chuckled. "Actually, that sounds like Mr. Hiller."

"It does." She had a point. Their history teacher was an absolute grump when students didn't behave or do their work. James, who was acing the class, was never on the wrong side of those lectures. "But it just doesn't call to me as a profession either."

"And the military does?"

"Is there anything wrong with the military?"

"Well no." Krista looked slightly uneasy. "You just don't seem like the type. I mean, you're not really aggressive or physical. I can't see you shooting someone either."

James had to keep himself from feeling disappointed. He wasn't really offended. She was right. He did well in Phys Ed in school but he didn't play sports much. He avoided activities that would get him beat on –the fight with Ted being a notable exception- and he didn't really like violence. "Then shouldn't there be a few more people who don't attack everything with violence in the military?" he suggested. "Dad's not really the violent type, but he works for President Rehnquist and he's a decorated war hero. No one in my family responds violently as their first response. Well…except Grandpa sometimes," he admitted. And Grandma, if some of the stories were true. "His temper is legendary."

Krista chuckled. "I've heard, though I haven't seen it."

"Something about Xingese meditation techniques," James replied. "So what do you want to be; an alchemist?"

"Maybe," Krista replied. "I mean yes, I'd love to learn more alchemy, I just don't think I want to make my living that way."

"So what then?" James was happy to steer the conversation in another direction, one more focused on Krista.

"Well, I'm good with kids. I thought it might be fun to teach pre-school. I'd really like to work helping kids without families too, or those with family problems. So I might be a councilor instead of a teacher."

How selfless. "Wow, I think that's great," James replied honestly. "So we both want to make a difference. Though I think your plan is better than mine."

"For me anyway," Krista replied. "Not for you obviously. Little kids need more patience."

"That's the truth." James had seen her with Tore's kids, and Krista was much more patient with them than he was, even though Dare had always said he liked having James as the occasional babysitter and they got along fairly well. "I'd rather deal with someone old enough I don't have to worry about scarring them for life."

The doorknob turned and James looked up sharply. A moment later, Grandpa Ed entered. He stopped when he saw them both sitting there, and grinned. "Sorry. Looks like I've interrupted something."

James could have killed him.

Krista's face went bright pink and she stood bolt upright. "Oh, not really. We were just talking… sir. I should get back to my room, really. It's getting late umm… good night." And as Ed moved into the room, she bolted past him and out the door.

Apparently his legend had not been dimmed this evening.

James glowered. "Thanks, Grandpa."

He wasn't expecting the scowl that replaced his grandfather's grin. "Just remember why you're here. Now let's get some sleep. We've got a long day of traveling tomorrow."

Why he was here? James pondered that statement as he got ready for bed, and even after Ted returned and the lights were out, he was thinking. He was here for Krista. So what was Grandpa's problem?

**May 21****st****, 1976**

The house on the hill outside the little border town of Quixal might have been picturesque once but now, only three years later, it already had a feeling of long abandonment. The peeling paint was dirty and gray. Wild vines clambered up the walls as if trying to consume the house like a green-tentacled squid. A broken window had let in the rain, and small wild animals, and inside the forlorn structure the wooden floors were worn and weathered.

Edward resisted the urge to quip about cozy cottages or make some other sardonic comment. Krista looked like she was trying very hard to hold back tears. Three years ago, this had been her home, the one she had spent her life in with the father she loved. That life was gone.

Looking at it, Ed could probably have restored the house in no time with a little alchemy, but they were trying not to call too much attention to themselves. Hard to do out in small towns like this one.

"So where do we start?" Ted broke the quiet that had fallen over them.

"Daddy's room was this one," Krista moved across the open living room to the short hall in the back and opened a door to the left.

"Which means it's probably picked clean," Ed pointed out, "But we'll start there anyway. There may be something hidden they didn't find." He followed Krista into the room.

There wasn't much of anything left; an empty bed stand, a broken chair. The closet stood open and empty. It only took a couple of minutes to give the room a thorough look over and determine that there were no hidden compartments, nothing shielded with an alchemical lock, or hidden away. Not in this room. "Let's search the rest of the house."

They broke up into teams. Ed teamed himself up with Krista. It made the most sense. He paired Al off with James, and Tore with Ted. It seemed the most efficient use of man power, and the best way to balance experience.

It also meant that in only another hour, they had scoured the rest of the house and find little to nothing of interest. Most anything that had not been taken by the military for examination, or sent with Krista to her Grandmother in Central, was gone, or falling apart.

So it was a stroke of luck –and stubborn perseverance- that they found anything useful at all, stuffed under a loose floorboard, under a scrap of throw-rug so old and faded it looked almost part of the wood itself.

The box was metal, snug tight, and locked, but alchemy was an easy fix for that problem. Al transmuted it open as James rounded them all up, and so Ed was leaning over his brother as Al opened the box.

The contents seemed to be those not particularly atypical of a personal lock box. There was a diamond ring inside, the deed to the house they were standing in, and –a bit oddly- an old metal cigarette case.

"Dad didn't smoke. Neither did Mom," Krista commented, puzzled. "But the ring is Mom's."

"So what's this for then?" Ed knelt down. He picked up the case, turned it over, and examined the pattern etched lightly on the outside. He stopped less than a quarter of the way through tracing the faint lines. "Al, check this out."

Al leaned sideways to get a look at it, and squinted. Then his eyes widened. "Why would he scratch that on a cigarette case?"

"A good question," Ed replied, looking at the transmutation circle. Would it have worked? It didn't look like it was complete, when he looked closer. There were a couple of elements missing that he knew were required to open the gate. Maybe Duar Dumais had just been trying to work it out on something no one was likely to look at twice. Or maybe, maybe he was hiding it. On a hunch, Ed opened the case.

Immediately a folded piece of paper fell out. Al picked it up, and opened it. "We're not going to find anything else here," he said aloud.

"What does it say?" Ed asked impatiently.

"It says, _The way to Truth lies along the road where fire lights the way at first, but darkness brings you home._"

"And you deduced there's nothing here from that?" James snorted.

Ed gave James a scowling look. "The Truth. I didn't know anyone from the other world would call it that name. I wonder where he uncovered that little piece of information." He wondered, without speaking aloud, what Duar had given up on his way through the gate. Chances were, he knew about Truth, because he had met it. "Clearly the answers aren't here. That means that they're where ever this road ends."

"Well, if fire lights the way at first, wouldn't that mean the road heads east?" Ted suggested, then scowled. "But there's nothing East of here. And didn't you say his workshop was in Creta? That's west."

"Unless the road leads into a volcano," Al suggested thoughtfully.  
"But what about the darkness?" James asked.

"Under a volcano, not inside it, would be pretty dark," Tore pointed out. "Or, the road really does head East, and it's a long enough walk that it's dark when you get there."

Ed thought furiously, puzzling over the exact meaning of the words. He was almost certain they were a map of sorts, that would lead them to the answers. "What if the starting point isn't the house," he said at last. "I think the road probably starts at the workshop."

"Those mountains are littered with roads and trails," Krista looked excited, but thoughtful. "If Daddy didn't want even his colleagues to find his work, near the end, maybe the important stuff is in those mountains."

"It's worth a shot." Ed grinned, and refrained from ruffling the girl's hair, like he might have his grandkids. His smile had the effect of making her blush, and that was as much as he was willing to embarrass her. "We'll head to Creta tomorrow. For tonight, I suggest we find someplace to stay." He reached down and closed the box, with everything inside it, and handed it to Krista. "These belong to you."

Krista nodded and took the box without a word.

"All right." Ed stood up and dusted off his knees. "Let's go."


	11. Chapter 11

**May 22****nd****, 1976 (continued) **

There was something wonderfully bittersweet about the cast and crew wrap-up party for _Amestris High_. Ian couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so hard, or been so close to tears on several occasions. Everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives, swapping stories of early days on set, and hugging friends, and talking –most importantly- about the future. Almost everyone had worked lined up, or at least a long line of auditions waiting. No one made it in the business without always looking for work.

Ian spent a lot of it hanging out with Reggie, who seemed to be a little more down than usual, though he was hiding it well. He could imagine why, Reggie didn't have a new part lined up yet, and his mother –Ian was beginning to hate the woman- had been harping him about it for weeks.

"At least we're done with the locker rooms," Reggie grinned as he happily took a large bite of carrot cake.

"Until we get cast in something that requires us to spend half our time in shorts," Ian retorted, though he was already on his second slice.

"That would require me to actually get a part first," Reggie pointed out, the grin slipping. He covered it by chewing another bite.

"Boys!" Bartholomew Tanner pushed through the crowd, grinning broadly.

"Mr. Tanner," Ian grinned back at the director, wondering just what had the bigger man so excited.

"I've got great news for you two," he grinned, clapping one hand on Ian's shoulder and the other on Reggie's. "Vittoro Valetti wants you to co-star in his newest movie!"

"What?" Ian's jaw nearly dropped, but years of practice kept it in place. He remembered auditioning for Valetti a couple of months back, for several films, but he hadn't heard anything.

"Which one?" Reggie blurted out, looking almost as startled.

"Highway Heroes," Tanner chuckled.

Ian remembered that one now. It was a college-buddies adventure road trip storyline that was half comedy and half romance, with the two main characters foiling a bank heist plot while on break after their first year of college. "Co-stars hrm?" He looked at Reggie. "Equal billing."

"And you'll be spending half your time shooting on the beautiful beaches of Creta!" Tanner added. "Well, have fun boys. Valetti said he'd have his AD give you a call in the next couple of days to talk shooting schedule and contracts." With that, he was off again, shooting like an arrow through the crowd towards someone else he wanted to have words with.

Reggie and Ian shared a look, then a grin.

"Beaches?"

"Beaches."

"Hot babes?"

"Hot babes." Then Reggie looked down at his plate, sighed, and held it out. "You finish this. I'll go find the carrot sticks."

* * *

It was definitely a good night. Though as it wore on, Ian was sorry to know that it would be ending. Tomorrow, they wouldn't all suddenly be strangers, but they would no longer all be working together on the same project, towards the same goal. Much the same way the main characters of _Amestris High_ were going in different directions. Except their characters would be more together than the actors now, unless they all got cast together again. Ian was thrilled that he and Reggie would be in a film together. From the sounds of it, while it wasn't a reprise of their current characters, a lot of fans would probably enjoy it because it seemed a relatively natural extension of the show if Reggie and Logan had decided to go to college instead of entering the world of professional sports.

Ian wasn't looking forward to going home and being alone. Then again, maybe he didn't have to. He looked around, and spotted Carmen smiling brightly in a group, chatting over a glass of wine. Casually, he wiggled his way through the crowd and came up beside her. "Hey," he smiled, one hand lightly on her arm to get her attention.

Carmen glanced over her shoulder and beamed. "Ian! You're still here."

"Well of course I am," he smiled. "Where else would I be?"

"Oh, I don't know, off on a hot date?" she teased.

"Well I'm not yet," he replied. "Though I could be."

"I'm sure you'll find someone," she replied, not picking up the hint, or purposefully avoiding it, he wasn't sure which. "But I wanted you to meet my boyfriend!"

Boyfriend.

Ian looked at the tall, dark haired, muscular guy standing next to Carmen, and realized he didn't recognize him from the crew. He put on a smile and held out a hand. "Hi. Nice to meet you."

"Diego." The man took his hand and shook it firmly.

"He's studying Finance at the University," Carmen beamed. "He's rebuilding his family business in Aerugo, and.."

"It's all right, Carmen," Diego cut her off with a firm tone, but a kind smile… for Carmen. "No need to bore your friend. I am sure he'd rather hear about things other than my life." The look he gave Ian made it clear that Diego had not missed Ian's earlier intent.

Ian was glad the man let go without breaking his hand. "No, actually, that sounds pretty interesting. But don't let me interrupt your conversation."

He managed to extract himself without further harm, but there was an odd feeling in his gut. It only took a moment to define it as jealousy. Stupid that, given Carmen wasn't his girlfriend. But after that night, and how lonely she had seemed, and now here she was with another boyfriend all lined up. He liked her. Maybe not loved her, but Ian liked her, and she hadn't mentioned Diego before tonight to him, not once. It wasn't betrayal necessarily, but it still stung.

**May 23****rd****, 1976**

The late morning sun did not make the worn building's near-black stone exterior any more inviting, though it did make it clear where one of the walls had completely caved in, revealing the near-hollow exterior of the former alchemy laboratory, previously a mining ore refinery of some sort.

Even when they clambered to the top of the rubble, Ed didn't see a single thing that looked like it might be useful. The Cretan government hadn't been kidding about confiscating and destroying any evidence of illegal –or at the least, highly risky- alchemical activity.

"We're not going to dig through that, are we?" James asked skeptically, his voice echoing slightly off the interior cavernous space.

"No, there's no point." Ed shook his head, a movement Al mirrored beside him.

"So we should start looking for this road," Tore suggested. "There are several paths that lead away from here. It could take us a while to find the right one."

"We could split up," Ted suggested.

"No." Ed turned around and started back down the pile. "We stay together. We have no idea what we're actually going to find out here. And even if it's nothing but rocks and bugs, it would be just our luck for someone to go off alone and get stung by a scorpion or something."

"Scorpions?" James sounded less than enthused with that prospect.

"Yeah," Krista nodded. "They're all over the place out here if you know where to look."

"Neat," Ted grinned, hurrying up to keep pace with her.

Ed led the way down and around the corner to the east side of the building, which was still standing, and looked for anything that might even vaguely qualify as a "road." Even a hiking path would do, depending on the situation. Ed doubted there was a four lane highway leading to the place.

There were five trails leading away from them, though they were mostly worn and clearly not much used except, perhaps, by wild animals. Given the area was mostly rock, there wasn't much to see.

"Where should we start?" Ed turned to Al to ask his opinion.

His brother, however, was staring off to the south, and staring.

Ed turned and saw a man sitting on a rock, maybe thirty yards away. He looked like he was meditating, or had been. Now his eyes were open, keen blue under that shock of white hair. His skin was sun-darkened and he looked reasonably old. His clothing was…bizarre. Ed couldn't imagine what dye process a man used to streak a shirt yellow, green, and purple, in that crazy, spirally, splotchy combination. He also wore a wreath of brilliant red and yellow desert flowers on his head. He wore sandals.

"Who do you think that is?" Al asked softly.

"Let's find out." Ed had a hunch. "Hey, you, old man," Ed he out more loudly. "Come here a minute!"

"Oh great, let's start off by being rude, shall we?" Al mumbled under his breath.

Ed grinned.

The man's keen eyes narrowed a moment in the sun. "Who are you to call me old?" he shouted back, though it was followed by a barking laugh as the man stood up and walked in their direction. As he came closer, Ed could make out tattoos on his arms, and his face, thin black lines that resembled, as he grew closer, transmutation circles.

"Jackpot." Ed grinned at Al before closing the final distance. "Fair enough," he called back to the other man as he bridged the distance between them. "Suppose you tell me what you're doing out here in the middle of nowhere, and anything you know about this building?"

He could just see Al shaking his head, looking mildly exasperated.

The man's eyes, despite his advanced age –which Ed would bet exceeded his and Al's by at least two decades- considered him keenly even as he reached out a hand.

Ed took it, and they shook. The guy had a firm grip.

"Suppose you tell me what you're doing here with the daughter of Duar Dumais," the man replied.

Behind him, Krista gasped softly.

Ed grinned. "So you knew Dumais. I figured from the transmutation circles on your skin."

"And unless I've got senile, you're the Elrics," the man replied. His voice was, Ed had noted, clearly Amestrian despite their being on Cretan soil.

"We're looking for clues," Ed said right up front. Most of the truth of their mission wasn't secret after all, and the sooner they established themselves as friendly, the better. How many other alchemists might be hiding up here? Behind the smile, he couldn't help but be on the alert for an ambush. "Krista wanted to know about her father's work." The fact that the man wasn't surprised to see them, or at least didn't show it, was worrisome.

"Then you've come to the right place," the man nodded. "Or rather, the wrong place, but I can bring you to the right place. We have been waiting for you for some time."

"Waiting for us?" Tore sounded immediately suspicious. "You knew we were coming?"

"We are always waiting for those who seek, so that they may find what they need."

Okay, now that was cryptic. "Care to give us a name for you, old man?" Ed asked.

"You may call me River."

"River?" Ted half-choked trying not to laugh.

Fortunately the man did not seem insulted. "River, for its peaceful flow, and it's constant movement. A name is a choice. I had another, but it is no longer of consequence to me. If it is to you, you may think of me as Ryan Merrl."

"And who is this _we_ you keep talking about?" Tore asked. "I take it you're not the only person here."

"Oh, not at all, not at all," River smiled. "You are far from the only ones who have come searching, though your reasons may be more different than most. I assure you, you will come to no harm, but I am sure you are hungry after walking all the way out here from Tallas," he named the village whose train station they had disembarked at just an hour before. "I promise to tell you everything I know if you will accept my hospitality."

"Well?" Ed glanced at his companions. He was certainly up for it. The man was even offering lunch! And after decades of practice, he was fairly positive the man was being honest.

James looked highly skeptical. Ted looked excited; Krista contemplative and eager.

Tore didn't look thrilled, but he nodded his assent.

Al, got to love him, grinned. "Sure. It sounds like a very nice offer, River."

Ed turned back to River. "All right. Lead the way."

* * *

Ted took advantage of James' reticence to walk up next to Krista as they followed the weird old guy down the path he chose, which was not the most-easterly route, but the one next to it. If Grandpa and Great-Uncle Al thought this was okay, he was cool with it. Uncle Tore and James could worry all they wanted.

"We're going the right direction," he pointed out to her softly as they walked.

Krista nodded, almost quivering in anticipating. "I noticed! And Ted… the name Ryan Merrl, I've heard it before," she said it so softly he doubted anyone else could hear, though he wouldn't put it past Grandpa. The man had amazing ears sometimes.

"Where?" Ted asked eagerly.

"I think I remember my father talking about him. He, he seems vaguely familiar. I don't know. Maybe I met him once." Krista shrugged, but kept walking at the surprisingly quick pace River was setting.

"That would make sense if he worked with your father," Ted pointed out. "I'm sure he'll tell us. I mean, he did say he would, and Grandpa seems to think he'll be true to his word."

"I hope so." Krista smiled at him, though she looked a little nervous, and the smile faded away. "I… is it silly to be afraid that these will be the people who killed him?"

"No," Ted shook his head, but he sobered as well. "Not silly at all." Smart actually. "It never hurts to be on guard. But that doesn't mean we can't hope for the best at the same time."

"You're quite the optimist aren't you?"

"I try to be." Ted shrugged, and flashed her another grin, hoping to cheer her back up. "Grandma says I'm a lot like Grandpa, but he's the pessimist in the family."

"Really? He doesn't seem like it."

"He hides it well," Ted teased. "You haven't seen him in a mood yet. He's a grouch, and he's got an amazing temper…at least it's amazing as long as you're not the one he's going off at."

"I'll remember that." Krista looked forward at the backs of the older men, all a few feet ahead. "But I hope we won't need to see it on this trip."

"Me too," Ted said, moving a little closer to her as the path through the rocks narrowed, and the path turned into a more hard-packed, if high-walled, road of sorts. Now, when he looked, he could see footprints in the bit of dust on the rocks, and not just the prints of their boots, but the sandals River was wearing, and in more than one size. "Hey," he dared to call out. "How far are we going?"

He heard River chuckle ahead of them. "Oh it's not far. Just a couple of miles."

* * *

Ed had no trouble keeping a light stream of conversation going with River for most of the walk. As long as he didn't try and ask anything troubling, River was happy to talk anything from basic alchemical philosophies to the best way to cook with garlic. But of the place they were going, he said almost nothing, until they came around yet another bend –Ed had lost count how many- and emerged at the top of a startlingly green, lush valley.

The silence falling around him made it clear they were all surprised by the vision below.

The valley was long, and narrow, but it went on for at least a couple of miles, and the bottom was nothing but thickly-green trees, a carpet of grass, and dozens –perhaps hundreds- of different flowering plants grew along the path and down under the trees, and along a glint that Ed guessed to be whatever stream or small river made this spot in the middle of rocky barren desolation such a garden. "Wow," he said after a minute to take it all in. "Is this natural?"

"The water and the trees," River smiled. "Many of the inhabitants have brought their favorite flowers with them. They take to this place as if they were natives."

"The people or the plants?" Ed asked as they started to move forward again, descending into the shade of the nearest trees.

"Both," River replied enigmatically. "The people who come here, who hear of us and believe, are those who have come to leave a world that has abandoned them to their suffering. Those who need release, peace, and simple joy."

"How many of you are there?" Tore asked, looking around as if for possible ambush.

"About forty of us now," River answered, completely at ease. He eyed Tore, and grinned, as if he knew what the alchemist was thinking. "All adults, though we've been blessed with a couple of little ones, belonging to our younger couples. Our homes are further down the valley. You will see them shortly."

Ed wondered just what kind of dwellings people lived in here, though the verdant terrain explained the flowers on River's head, and why the man did not look as if he had been living out in the scorching sun for years. "How do they find you?" he asked.

"Word of mouth," River replied. "Little more than rumor, but those who truly need solace are desperate enough to seek it out. May I ask, though I think it a bit plain," he glanced back at Krista, "the reasons for your coming?"

Ed pondered his reply for a minute before responding. "Two reasons," he replied finally. "Krista wants to know the truth about her father, and I want to know more about his research. It holds an interest for me."

"A personal interest, if I don't miss my guess," River replied shrewdly. "Duar told me much more than many of the others. He did love to talk about his childhood and his home, outlandish though the stories might seem."

Ed remembered when his own stories of Amestris had seemed outlandish to German sensibilities. He understood. "Reasonably personal," he agreed without elaborating. At least for now. Neither he nor Al could afford to say too much. Especially not knowing what kind of people they were about to be surrounded by.

They heard the village –or whatever you would call it, Ed wasn't sure- before they saw it. Then they came out of the trees suddenly into a clearing, where the grass continued, but there were fewer trees, and the homes appeared to be carved right out of the cliff walls to either side here, where the walls narrowed until they weren't more than a hundred yards apart.

And suddenly, there were people. As River had promised, around forty, all adults save for a couple of women chatting happily in fold-out chairs by a table, holding babies, neither looked more than a year old. Everyone wore an odd collection of what Ed would have considered normal clothes, and items they had obviously made –and dyed- themselves. Bright colors dominated in the fabrics, and the flowers. They all wore flowers, men and women alike, as they went about their daily business; though that seemed to involve a lot of smiling conversation.

As their arrival was noticed, the conversations broke off and people smiled, and moved their direction, shouting hellos and good wishes.

It was all so positive and friendly Ed began to feel a little creeped out.

"Friends!" River raised his hands for silence and, as one, the group followed his implication in the gesture. "Today is a day we have long awaited. Guests have come to visit our holy community. Please, make them feel welcome, for they are wise in the Truth already, and may be so kind as to share their own words with us during their stay."

_Wait what?_ Ed wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to a commune of… were they religious fanatics? It made sense, but that didn't make him feel better. Even friendly fanatics could be dangerous. Liore had taught him many years ago how quickly that could go South. Europe had been no better in some ways. He kept smiling, but even Al's smile looked slightly forced, at least to Ed's experienced eye. He doubted their hosts would notice. Tore looked slightly worried. Nothing to be done about that. Ed did not turn to see the expressions of the kids.

"This is, of course, after they have partaken of our hospitality," River chuckled. Maybe he hadn't noticed their unease. "So first, bring food and drink that they may be cleaned and refreshed!"

An enthusiastic smattering of cheers was immediately followed by friendly chatter as people moved with a sense of purpose, but no rush, as the center of the narrow part of the valley was cleared, and long tables brought out from one of the caves, set with chairs, and before long a spread for the entire valley was being laid out on the tables.

Ed merely watched in awe, and smiled and waved when the locals caught his eye with eager, curious glances. "What do you think?" he asked Al very quietly, barely moving his mouth. It was a skill wrought by years of practice.

"They seem harmless enough," Al replied with a subtle shrug, responding just as softly, though he was smiling warmly at anyone who looked their way. "I don't see anyone else with transmutation circles tattooed on their skin. And most of them don't seem at all like alchemists."

Al had a good point. Other than River, Ed wouldn't have pegged more than one or two of these people as having the look of an alchemist to them, even if it was something most would call nebulous. There was also no feel of alchemical energy use in the air around them, not more than the natural flow and ebb of the earth's energy, which was far more subtle. Whatever River and Duar had been involved in regarding the gate, it didn't look like that research was being continued. From what River had said on the walk here, Ed began to feel mildly reassured that, if nothing else, this commune really was as harmlessly peaceful as it looked at the moment.

He began to relax a little, and watched with great interest as the food was laid out. It was all vegetarian, he noticed, but with a rich plethora of fruits, vegetables, beans, and breads. There was no butter, but plenty of honey. "Do you farm everything in this valley?" he asked River curiously at one point.

River smiled. "We provide the vast majority of what we need ourselves, yes, though if we need something we cannot make for ourselves, or grow, we have bartered in town from time to time. Most of us prefer not to leave; though that is a matter of preference, not a requirement," he assured them. "We are here to find freedom, not to create another form of captivity."

That was a little more reassuring. The last thing Ed wanted was to find himself, or any of the rest of them, in the awkward position of having to fight their way out of a group that seemed to be reasonably pacifistic. "That's good."

River gestured to the tables, being quickly heaped with plates of food, clearly all home grown fruits and vegetables and locally made breads and dishes of beans. Ed didn't see much meat. Apparently they were vegetarians. River's grin widened. "Hopefully you will find the food just as good."

SCENE BREAK SCENE BREAK SCENE BREAK

"This place is amazing," Ted grinned at Krista over the table and some of the sweetest fruit he had ever eaten.

"You just like the food," Krista teased, but she was smiling too as she swallowed a fresh raspberry.

"Nothing wrong with that." Ted resisted the urge to lick apple juice off his fingers. He could show _some_ class. "But I mean it. Look at what your Dad inspired; all these people living together in peace. They even resolve disagreements peacefully. I didn't think it was possible. That's an awesome legacy." Listening to River talk to his grandpa had given him all sorts of interesting insight into the group around them.

"Wow." Krista looked surprised, then thoughtful. "I hadn't thought of it like that." She smiled at him. "You're right. I think Dad would have liked that what people took away from his stories was a wish for harmony and finding a way to get along. Even if this is a little… out there."

"Well the whole story is a little out there," Ted pointed out in good nature. "Like my whole family history."

Krista chuckled. "Then that makes two of us."

Off to the side the music started up loudly, with a strong drumbeat, and Ted couldn't stop his feet from tapping as guitar joined in. "What's that?" All around them people were leaping to their feet.

One of the locals grinned as he passed. "It's time for the Affirmation!"

Another "what's that" died on Ted's tongue as everyone moved into the clearing where he could see a record player plugged into a portable generator; the source of all the rocking music. In moments, they were dancing.

Ted looked at Krista who gave him a "when in Creta" bemused smile, and he grinned back. "Would you like to dance?"

* * *

"This music's in English!" Ed exclaimed in wonder as he looked at Alphonse, whose face mirrored his startled surprise. The first song, with its rocking beat, wasn't at all familiar, but the language was. Ed turned to River. "Does anyone here understand it?"

River shook his head. "Not in the original language. Duar left several translations into Amestrian with his belongings. The recordings belong to him, though we made copies so the originals are in the condition I found them."

Despite the decades it didn't take Ed long to catch the language again. This one was a very upbeat love song. "Did he say anything about his music?"

"Plenty," River nodded. "He called it rock-and-roll."

"It sounds a little like swing," Al commented. "But louder!"

"I didn't think that was possible," Ed laughed, but he did have to say it loudly to be heard. Rock and roll… what an appropriate name. "Faster too, but not bad at all. I think I like it." The accent on this one, he thought, wasn't British, but American. Not that he'd ever met more than a handful of Americans. "I'd like to see this collection. How did you copy records all the way out here?"

Now River looked mildly abashed. "I have occasionally used alchemy for the good of my people. In this case I also wanted to preserve the originals. They rightly belong to Krista, as do the rest of her father's personal items from Shamballa."

Ed blinked. "What did you say?"

"An irony, I understand," River smiled. "Duar said it was the name his world has for ours. So it seemed fitting to use it the other way. A name symbolizing another world, and hopefully a better one, that we make and find within ourselves." River stood. "I do hope you will feel the urge to join in the Affirmation." He moved away into the crowd of dancers with as much ease as a man decades younger.

Ed looked at the dancers spinning freely in the sunlight, laughing with a carefree delight their belied their origins. But then, those who had suffered most deserved to laugh. "What do you think Al?"

Al was already getting to his feet. "I think it's got a really catchy beat."

* * *

James' insides squirmed as he watched Ted and Krista laughing and dancing with the rest of the village folks to this "rock and roll" music from another world. They all looked like they were having fun, but all he could feel was that there was something fundamentally wrong with this place; these people. Running away from life was not something he understood, nor could he condone it. What about family and friends? He understood that people had rough lives. His Grandpa and Uncle Al certainly hadn't had it easy. Yet there they sat, smiling and chatting and laughing as if they were just here for a friendly visit. What about the mission? Why the delays?

He knew Uncle Tore had looked skeptical. Maybe he could talk to him and see what he thought. It was better than watching Krista dancing with his cousin.

Moving from the rock he had perched on, it took James a few minutes to find Tore. He finally located the alchemist sitting with a group of the locals, mostly men. James hesitated at the edge of the clearing.

Tore spotted him and waved him over. Trying to look casual, James strolled in and took a seat. At once It was clear why these men weren't dancing. One was missing a foot and had no prosthetic. James was startled by the lack of auto-mail. He was so used to it, that the leg, in shorts, that just ended made him cringe inside. That man didn't look any older than Tore.

Another was an older man, with scars on his shoulders and chest that he didn't seem concerned about showing with the open, sleeveless vest he wore.

None of them was unscathed, but they were all smiling. The conversation continued without a pause at his arrival, outside of a couple of friendly smiles his direction.

They were talking about plants, to James' surprise; the wide variety in the valley and where they came from and how amazingly well they grew here.

"It's a miracle really," the one-footed man was saying. "As far as I can tell it's all natural, too. River swears he's never touched the place with alchemy."

"So this is all planted and carved and built naturally? I'm impressed." Tore nodded approvingly.

"Some of the local trees were here, thanks to our water source. The spring never falters, and it's always cold and sweet," the old man said with a contented side. "The place is as close to perfection as you could find."

Perfection? James bit back the urge to scoff. The place was primitive. It might be pretty but he couldn't imagine living in such an isolated place, with so few amenities.

Apparently his skepticism showed anyway, because the old man smiled knowingly at him, as if to say 'youth.'

James bristled.

"Our garden at home could use some of that water," Tore chuckled. "My wife would love this place."

Neither Tore nor Charisa had ever struck James as garden people, so he wondered if Tore was just being polite, but he sounded sincere enough. What was with this place? James and been sure Tore would agree with him about how suspiciously accommodating everyone was, but it seemed like he was the only one.

And that just made him even more uneasy.

* * *

Ed's warning that the Affirmation was coming to an end was River's hand on his shoulder. "When the music stops," the man spoke into his ear, "you will give them your words. When we are done, I will show you to Duar's private workshop."

He had less than a minute to absorb the message when the music came to a triumphant finish. As one the dancers turned to River, who raised his hands above his head. "Today we are blessed. Here now the words of one who has been where we all strive to be, and see what we work to see. Today's Affirmation comes from across time and space."

_No pressure, right?_ Ed swallowed and looked out at a sea of expectant faces. Al grinned at him. "What you have accomplished here, is nothing short of amazing," Ed began honestly. "It embodies the dreams and hopes of two worlds in search of peace. The answer, Shamballa, is here," he put his hand on his chest, figuring that the might take it figuratively, despite the literalness of that movement in relation to an alchemist's connection with the gate. "In each of us lies the ability to find it. That's the source. Stay true to those ideals, and don't let anything change them; being reasonable, getting along, remaining positive, and pushing through adversity without turning to revenge. Keep that level head and that reason and don't ever let desires or selfishness take hold. You all have the right of it now. Let it stay that way."

He didn't really have any other idea of what to say, but his words were met with a moment of quiet, and then a cheer of enthusiasm and applause.

"Optimism from you?" Al teased softly.

Ed shrugged.

"That was perfect." River stepped back up beside them. "Now, if you will come with me, I will show you the things you have come for. If you please however, I asked that it be just the two of you first."

Al frowned. "What about Krista?"

"Oh, not for more than a few minutes," River assured them. "Merely that when I say we have been waiting for you, I am not being figurative. They do not know it, but I have been expecting the two of you for some time, though I did not know when you might come."

The man was being strange again. "All right," Ed agreed. "Let's go." He would rather get this part over with.

River led the two of them through the milling crowds, and out into the narrow far end of the valley. There was a winding trail that led up to a cave about three stories up, and it was up that trail River led them. "Duar and I realized the dangers of the gate several years ago," he spoke softly, and more seriously, as they trudged. "There were men on our team who would have used it for power, for corrupt means. It's hard to find alchemists who do not seek power." His mouth twisted.

Ed nodded. "Don't we know it."

"Duar felt there was so much good to be found on the other side, or good that could be done in a war wracked world. He hoped his world could learn what he had. I have tried to promote peace the way Duar did, but Duar was killed, and everything in the workshop smashed up even before the government raided the workshop. I don't doubt it was Duar who finally turned them in. As far as I can tell he never mentioned my name, but I haven't tried to ask. I fled up here after he was killed, avoiding the alchemists I knew would blame me as much as him. That's when I found the workshop, specifically."

They reached the top, and River led them inside.

Ed stepped into the shadows as River turned on a gas lantern. The light from the door and from the lantern fell across crates of items. There was a surprising amount there. What struck Ed was the stickers on the trunk; Paris, New York, Amsterdam, London. Books and records and artwork and so much stuff. _He didn't know how to pack light, did he?_ Or maybe he hadn't expected a short trip. "Wow."

"I don't claim to understand everything in here, even now," River admitted. "But clearly the remnants of Duar's world were special to him. I found the last couple of true believers out of our team, and from them, the word has spread, and people who needed to live apart from the ravages of the world we live in, who needed something to believe in, they just started finding us." He moved forward to a specific, very thick, stack of books. They looked like journals. "These we have not tried to translate. They are meant for you."

Ed and Al followed him. "How do you know?" Ed asked, taking the first one River offered him and opening the cover and read the top of the first page.

_To Mssrs. Edward and Alphonse Elric…._

"Well," Al said after a stunned moment of silence. "I guess that answers our question."


	12. Chapter 12

**May 23****rd****, 1976 (Continued)**

_To Mssrs. Edward and Alphonse Elric,_

_I can only hope that this one day comes into your hands. If it does, I am likely dead, as I have come to have little faith that my attempts to reopen the portal will succeed. I have decided –too late, yes I know- that these attempts must be aborted. I doubt very much that my alchemical associates will agree. I should have chosen more wisely. _

_I am sorry. A poor apology, but all I can give. Curiosity led me to the gate in Munich, and to recreating the research of the Thule Society needed to open it. My original purposes, however altruistic, are pointless now. I was proud and foolish. I am_ still_ proud and foolish. _

_My father and mother spoke of you both often and fondly, especially Edward. They had many stories to tell my sisters, my brother, and I. He trusted you both implicitly, and so it seems only you, here, in this world, can be trusted with these books; the product of many years struggle and attempts to remember my home, to keep it from fading completely. So within these pages, along with my most secret notes, you will find as complete a history as I could write, beginning with my father's stories of the days after you vanished, through the Second Great War, and up until the day I opened the gate. Consider it an apology from a foolish man, and may none of what befell Europe and the rest of the world darken the lives of Amestrians, Cretans, or any here. What happened there made the war with Drachma look like a school-yard quarrel. _

_If you find my daughter please pass on to her, once more, my love, and my regrets that I was too much a scientist and too little a parent. _

_Regards, and with regret that we never met in person,_

_Duar Dumais  
born Edward Hughes  
Munich, Germany  
__1940 by the Gregorian Reckoning__  
_

Edward's mouth had gone dry. For several seconds after he finished reading he could do nothing but stare at the page in shock. "Hughes?"

Al's voice was no less soft. "_Second_ Great War?"

Ed's heart sank. They had failed to stop a war after all. But then, the world had been so bent towards one, in the years since they had returned home, he had come to accept that it was unlikely the two of them could have ever stopped it. "He's Hughes' son, Al. Youngest apparently." Maes and Gracia had _four _kids, and they had named the youngest after him.

"That makes him Elicia's brother."

Ed glanced sharply at Al, who was still staring at the page over his shoulder. Al was right. "Which makes Krista Gracia's granddaughter… sort of."

"Close enough." Al nodded. "She's Elicia's niece."

That made Krista family, in a very convoluted fashion. Ed nodded. "Do we tell Elicia and Gracia about this?"

"I'm not sure," Al admitted, surprising Ed. Al never hid things from his wife. "I mean, they ought to know, but Europe isn't something I've talked with either of them about extensively. Not that part, and not in a long time. Telling Gracia about a dead son she never had? Elicia about siblings she never knew? That might never have been born here even if Hughes had lived? Is that fair?"

"Is it fair not to tell them?" Ed countered. "I'm not even sure we should tell Krista. But she has the right to know she has family here."

"What's a few decades and a world between relatives?" Al quipped, but he was smiling now. "No, you're right, Ed. We should tell them. I think this part we should tell Gracia and Elicia first. I want them to have some say in how we tell Krista."

Now Ed could agree with that.

"Tell me what?"

Ed glanced behind him, where River was just leading Krista, Tore, Ted, and James inside.

"That your Dad had way too much stuff," Al quipped, thinking fast.

Ed chuckled. "There's enough here to keep you busy for years. He even left us a letter… a really long letter," he put his hand on the stack of books. "Hoping we'd show up some day."

Krista beamed. "He did? He was always so interested in meeting you. I… wow. Will you tell me what's in it?"

"We've got to read through it all first," Ed replied, avoiding the question even though he kept smiling. If there was anything worth sharing in there, he certainly would. But there was a lot in there that he suspected would never go beyond himself, Alphonse, and probably Winry. It wouldn't mean much to anyone else. It was hard enough not to rip into it right now with Duar's reference to another Great War. It was easier to keep thinking of the man as Duar.

"How are we going to get all this back?" Ted asked with an exclamation that was part dismay and part awe. He looked like he wanted to rip into the stacks too even though he wouldn't be able to read most of it.

"I will loan you a pack mule to carry anything you wish to take into town," River smiled. "These are your legacy, Krista. Your father talked about you much more than you could know. Anything in here you may take with you."

"A mule?" Ed asked, bemused.

"He's a very large mule," River chuckled.

* * *

"It looks like a mule."

"It does not." Gracia said as she came over to Winry and looked over her shoulder at the pieced quilting Winry was attempting to stitch together. "It's clearly a rabbit."

"Yours looks like rabbits," Winry disagreed with a sigh. "Mine looks like a mule."

"Well, maybe the ears do a little," Gracia conceded, though she smiled kindly.

"Thank you." Winry wasn't sure why she felt she needed to win that particular point, but as much of a perfectionist as she was quilting was not her area of expertise. But, in the interest of trying new things to do in her spare time, she had agreed to join Gracia for the day, working on one of her many projects. "I suppose it's not bad. You'll be able to make it fit won't you?"

"Of course I will," Gracia assured her. "We're talking a matter of millimeters here. Now, if it were as bad as Elicia's first piece…"

"Gee thanks, Mom," Elicia rolled her eyes. She was also piecing together a quilted area shaped like a rabbit. Winry noticed that Elicia's looked just like a rabbit in shape. "It wasn't that bad."

"Not after the second time, no," Gracia agreed with a teasing chuckle. "And that was just a square. These rabbits are far more complicated."

"And yours doesn't require redoing," Elicia grinned at Winry. "Now do you feel better?"

Winry looked down at her rabbit. It really wasn't so bad, with its little pinwheel of colors for a body and head, and its cute floral ears that were just a shade the wrong shape. "Well it's cute. But I still think it looks a little mulish."

**May 25****th****, 1976**

"Why'd you do that?"

Ian looked up from his drink at Reggie's expression. His friend didn't look happy. He didn't look mad either, just confused and unsure. Ian glanced behind him and noticed that the girl they had been talking to before Ian had absented himself had left. Well so much for that. "She kept looking at me," he admitted. "But you were talking to her first. You deserved her full attention, so I figured I'd let you have it."

Reggie scowled. "It's not like I have to get your help."

"I didn't say it was," Ian pointed out. "You know I don't poach, Reg. Not even if it's just a girl my friend is hitting on."

Reggie glared at him a moment longer, then sighed and took a seat. "It shouldn't take you leaving the conversation for me to get the attention of a cute girl. But these days, that seems to happen a lot."

"I swear I'm not trying," Ian said, sipping his beer. "I don't even get why they prefer me over you. You were just as popular a character as I was."

"In the polls." Reggie sighed. "I guess most of my fans aren't pretty girls."

"So maybe they aren't all," Ian didn't try and deny it. "But I bet the ones that are happen to be particularly charming. We've just got to find them." He glanced around the room and felt a spot of good luck when he recognized two girls sitting at the table in the corner; Brittany Benson and Chelsea Spinner. He had gone to high school with both of them, and he knew that they were not only currently single, but that Brittany had always had a huge crush on Reggie's character. "Let's try those two."

"What makes you think they'll be any different?" Reggie asked, though he looked interested.

"I know them," Ian replied, grinning. "I went to high school with them. We weren't best friends or anything, but I have a good feeling. Come on." He stood up, slapping Reggie on the shoulder.

With a slightly skeptical look, Reggie followed.

Brittany and Chelsea spotted them as soon as they got into a clear space between tables, and both girls immediately broke out in smiles, though Chelsea tried a little too hard to appear coy.

"Hello, Ian," Brittany gave him her winning smile. "Long time no see, except on television of course."

Chelsea chuckled.

"Well work keeps me busy," Ian assured her with an apologetic smile. "Hopefully I can make it up to you. I'd like to introduce you to my very good friend, Reggie." He gave no further introduction, but propelled his friend up into the light over the table.

Both girls' reactions were perfect; gasps of surprise and pleasure, and blushes. Brittany, ever the cool one, recovered first. "It's a pleasure," she smiled, holding a hand out to Reggie, half as if she looked like she expected him to kiss it, though it turned into a friendly handshake. "Ian's told us so many nice things about you."

Chelsea nodded, eyes still a little wide. "Your work is amazing!"

The tension went out of Reggie's shoulders, Ian could see from the back, and within moments he was sitting at the table talking, with both girls glued to his every word.

Ian grinned as he sat there, almost completely ignored. Maybe they weren't the most brilliant girls in the world, but Brittany was smart enough to hold a decent conversation. That, and she wasn't mean spirited. The last thing Ian wanted to do was put Reggie in that kind of situation.

The way he was chatting animatedly with both girls, Ian was pretty sure that the rest of the night was going to go well.

**June 2****nd****, 1976**

By the time they got off the train in Central, Ed's head was spinning. The trip home itself had been relatively uneventful, except that he'd had hours and hours to read. Him and Al both, and they had plowed through –skimming in some places- the volumes that Duar had left specifically for the two of them to read. It was not an easy read in places. Not that the language was difficult, but the topics, and the speed with which certain technologies had been advanced, were sometimes astonishing, and other times horrifying. The second great war, called World War Two by Duar's time; the Holocaust.

The things that Fuhrer Hitler had done in the name of Germany revolted him. That man, whom Ed had only seen once before he'd been imprisoned during the failed uprising, had achieved more power, and done even more damage with it, than Bradley had done. He knew now what had happened with that technology too. The atom bomb. The full on advent of aerial warfare; fighting in airplanes, firing rockets. Even just moving past that war, things were terrible in places, and inspiring in others. Most particularly the Space Race. Ed had to admit, he was amused to find that, in space, there was more space.

And intermixed with it all, the personal story of the Hughes family, and that hurt worse in some ways. Hughes, after being assigned to Chelmno, had taken the first opportunity to flee Germany on leave, taking his family to Switzerland, then after the war they had moved to the Netherlands. Duar had gone to college in the United States. Duar had little to no memories of Germany as a child, he had been so young, the youngest of four. What he remembered was his father, who refused to speak of his experiences at Chelmno, and the people he had been witness to their murders, even if he hadn't gassed them personally. Yet he always smiled during the day, and told stories of happy times. It was only at night, Duar noted, that he had once seen his father, probably drunk, crying in his mother's arms.

It was a lot to take in. Ed was just glad he had Al to share it with. The triumphs and tribulations of the twentieth century in a world they had left behind; a world that was little more than a dream, even if it had shaped them in its own way. Even as he dreaded it, Ed still looked forward to getting through some of the sections in more detail.

Still, it was the simplest, and most personal, elements that they gave Gracia and Elicia over coffee after dinner their first night back. Winry was there, but it was just the five of them. Ed let Al tell it. It was still a simple version; a reminder that they had met the other side's Gracia and Maes, before Elicia had been born. That they'd had Elicia, and three more children in that world, and that the youngest, named Edward, was the real Duar Dumais. That he had come through the gate, and realized before it was too late that reopening it was a bad idea. That Krista was his daughter.

Ed spent the time ping-ponging his gaze from Gracia to Elicia, with occasional glances at Winry. But it was the Hughes girls whose reactions he wanted to see most.

In the end, it was Gracia who spoke up first. "What a wonderful gift."

"What do you mean?" Ed blurted.

"Don't interrupt, Ed," Winry frowned at him.

Gracia chuckled. "It's nice to know that, even if things weren't perfect, there is a world where Maes is still alive, and he still loves me, and Elicia had siblings."

Elicia's expression was thoughtful, but she didn't look upset. "And another niece, sort of. I mean, if this Duar guy, this other Edward, is my full blood brother from the other side of the gate that means Krista is a Hughes."

"There's no reason to think there would be any difference on a genetic level, not that we can really test it," Al nodded. "Ren might be able to tell you something, but even alkahestry can only delve so far into the body. Proving blood relation is not something it can really do."

"And it doesn't really matter," Gracia said, cutting quietly back into the conversation. "What it means is that she still has living family, and found her way to them. Duar was smart enough to foresee the likelihood that his work would be examined, and that anything with your names recognizable on it would eventually get to you. Perhaps he thought if you knew the truth, even if you didn't know Krista, you would find her."

That made a certain amount of sense. He and Al hadn't discussed that possibility. Ed nodded. "And of course, we would have gone looking. With her right here in Central, it wouldn't have even been that hard."

"Have you told Krista yet?" Elicia asked.

"We wanted to let you know first," Al explained, looking slightly abashed. "To see how we should proceed, and if you wanted her to know."

Gracia gave them a no-nonsense look that still made Ed squirm a little. "You haven't told her yet? Well by all means, we need to fix that!"

**June 3****rd****, 1976**

They told Krista in Tore and Charisa's living room. It was only right that her foster family be there, and while Ed had warned Tore in advance, the Shock Alchemist had shaken his head at the irony and agreed that Krista should know.

The girl's expression as it was explained went from one of confusion to shock. Then, one by one, she looked at the faces in the room, as if daring any one of them to admit that this was a lie, or a huge joke. Of course, no one did.

Then Krista looked at Gracia, and there were tears in her eyes. "Does that mean you're my Grandmother?"

Gracia nodded, and gave her the same kind smile Ed had seen her give every lost child in need of love since the day he'd met her. "In any way that matters," she replied, "If you want me to be."

Krista nodded, and fell into Gracia's arms, hugging her tightly. Gracia returned the hug, and the moment of hushed silence, waiting to see the girl's reaction, was broken. "I understand that this whole mess is crazy," she snuffled in Gracia's shoulder. "But thank you."

"Family is family," Elicia spoke up, with a misty-eyed chuckle.

* * *

Krista could hardly believe it. For a moment she had been sure she was being duped, but that thought had passed quickly. They had no reason to lie to her, nor would they have wanted to. After several minutes of hugging, Krista got more proof of that, when Fullmetal showed her the signature in the front of the book that clearly read, even if she couldn't read the rest of it, not only Duar Dumais, but Edward Hughes.

"Will you teach me to read the rest of it?" she asked him shyly.

"Someday, perhaps." Ed closed the book. "Most of what's in here isn't relevant to anyone but me and Al and Winry. It wouldn't mean anything to anyone else except us, and your Dad. I'm not sure how safe it is to know too much about the other side, honestly. That's why I didn't tell any of River's people anything real about it."

"I see." Krista was disappointed, but she understood to an extent. If alchemists on both sides had tried to open the gate, and caused trouble every time they did, than it was probably for the best if people forgot about it. New information would not make people less curious. "Thank you."

The conversation had turned from an unveiling into an impromptu party of sorts, before Krista even realized it. There was food coming out for dinner, being made in the kitchen, someone ran out for ice and drinks, and soon it was more of a welcome to the family get together than a potentially awkward revealing.

She had already been welcomed as a stranger, without question, and treated like family. Krista would never have said she was treated differently than anyone else in the few weeks she had been with the Clossons. But this, being a Hughes… having far more family than she had ever dreamed –however much it was not by blood- was incredible! "Mrs… umm, grandma?" she stepped into the kitchen, where Gracia Hughes and Elicia and Charisa were all working on food preparation. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Of course," said a chorus of female voices, followed by chuckles.

Gracia grinned. "Could you slice these tomatoes for me?"

"Sure." Krista picked up a knife and stepped up to the cutting board. It was so nice to be part of a family again.

* * *

James and Ted cornered Tore in the middle of dinner preparations, when he got back from the supermarket with a bag of ice, fruit juice, and soda pop in a variety of flavors. James had been mildly stunned by the realization that Krista was actually a Hughes. That made her, obliquely and not by blood –thankfully- a cousin of sorts. Or rather, it made her Alyse and Will's cousin.

He was glad she wasn't related to him. While he was thrilled for her to have a family of her own again –however bizarre the circumstance— James wasn't about to give up on hopes of dating her. And, apparently, neither was Ted.

Tore gave them a look as if he knew exactly what was coming when they walked up. He sighed, and his words confirmed it. "I know what you're looking for, and I don't think you're going to like my answer," he said right up front. "But I don't think she particularly prefers one of you over the other. She likes you both, that's clear enough, but she's not in love with either one of you. I'd bet my rep on it."

James felt his heart twist a little. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

"That's not an answer," Ted objected at the same moment.

Tore held up both hands, palms out. "Hey. I just tell it like it is. You should both just man up and tell her how you feel and stop being stupid about it. If you want to know what she thinks, you're going to have to ask Krista. And you'd better be gentlemen about it, or I'll have both of your backsides on the sparring mat for a little practice, and I'm pretty sure your parents would be all for it."

James swallowed. His mother probably would. He looked at Ted. "All right, how do we do this?"

* * *

Ted tried not to grin too much as he and James hunted down Krista. They waited until after dinner, when people were mingling and talking. It was better for a private conversation.

They found her sitting on the stairs of the back porch, enjoying the evening air, and petting Rapscallion. The elderly cat was all-fours-and-belly up, purring as she rubbed his stomach.

She smiled when they joined her. "Hi, guys. Having fun?"  
"Always do," Ted grinned, dropping down next to her and stretching out his legs. James settled down on the other side. "This whole thing is surreal, but awesome."

"Yeah." She smiled at him. "It is… both."

"So Krista…" James started in, then seemed to lose his nerve and choked on the statement.

Ted tried not to groan. So much for a smooth lead in. Krista was looking at James curiously. "What?"

James swallowed. "Well, it's just that we were wondering something and thought you might be able to help us out with it," he blurted, almost rushing.

"Oh? Is it an alchemy question? Or something else?" Krista glanced between them, and then Ted thought he saw realization behind those eyes.

Ted swallowed. Nothing to gain by chickening out. "I like you, Krista," he said, smiling despite the flutters in his stomach. "But… so does James. You're an amazing girl. We just… wanted to know if you were interested in either of us?"

The crickets had time for a the second movement of their little summer symphony before Krista stopped looking between them, flustered, and replied. "Well I'm flattered… really," she said finally, cheeks rosy even in the twilight haze. "But I'm afraid that I can't say I feel that way about both of you."

Ted tried not to feel relieved. "Well we wouldn't expect you to like both of us," he assured her. Most girls weren't into two guys at once, right?

Krista looked at him. "I mean that, you're both really great guys. I'm just… not interested in a boyfriend right now, at all."

He could almost hear his ego deflating. Ted had been so sure Krista would pick him! They'd had so much time together on the trip where she smiled, and they had fun, and they could talk about anything.

"I see," James spoke up first.

"Oh, please don't be mad," Krista looked momentarily fearful. "I don't want to lose you as friends over this. I'm not saying that. And I'm not saying you aren't both really nice guys, or cute, or …well, any of that. I just mean it. I'm not ready to get romantically involved with anyone right now. Things have been so crazy. I just need some time to really find myself in all of it."

It made sense. Perfect sense. Ted felt a stab of guilt for feeling sorry about his own wounded pride. "It's okay, Krista," he assured her. "I understand."

"We both understand," James nodded firmly, clearly not wanting to be left out of the moment. "It can't be easy."

"Thanks guys." Krista smiled then leaned over to hug first Ted, then James. "I'll be back in soon."

It was a polite dismissal, but one all the same. Ted nodded though, smiled, and stood up as if it wasn't a big deal. James followed him inside. Both rejected. Ted wondered if Tore had seen that coming. He had said he couldn't see a difference in how she felt about them. Well, he'd been right about that much. They'd both gotten turned down in the end.

When he closed the back door, Ted looked at James. "You want to go get a soda?"

James sighed, nodded, and grinned. "Yeah. Let's go."

* * *

Ed sat with Winry on the couch when it was all over and most of the family had dispersed back to their houses or was helping clean up. Ed felt only a moment's guilt at not helping, but it went away as he enjoyed the feel of Winry's head on his shoulder, her body against his side. "So, how's retirement?" he asked. "Did you miss me at all?"

"Well, I'm still pretty good at hitting a target," Winry grinned at him. "And Gracia and Elicia insist my quilting is decent, but I don't think it's something I'm going to get highly involved in. And yes, of course I missed you. I didn't have anyone to grumble at."

"So that's why you missed me." Ed chuckled and gave her shoulders a squeeze. "I should have known."

"Well it's hard to grumble when you're not here," Winry pointed out, "Or when you're pensive like you've been." She stroked her fingers through the end of his ponytail.

"I've had a lot to think about." Ed had told her a decent summary, the high points and low points, of what he had read on the long train ride home. He'd had days to digest it, and it would take time to fully understand and accept it all. "I wish I'd met him while he was alive."

"That would have been nice," Winry agreed. "Imagine hearing about all of it first hand. But he stayed away for a reason."

"Yeah. Maybe he thought I'd kick his ass for trying something so stupid."

"It would have saved him a lot of trouble." Winry tugged on the hairs gently. "And Krista. But it all turned out all right. Krista has family, and she's safe and sound, and unlikely to try anything foolish. We're here, where we belong. Knowing isn't going to make us go anywhere." There was a note of warning at the end of that statement.

Ed smiled. "No, no we're not," he assured her. He wasn't. He was long past the age and impulsivity when the other side of the gate held any real pull. What-ifs were daydreams and reality far too good to mess up. "Still. It would have been nice to be able to ask questions about anything his writings don't answer. I would have liked to have heard more about exactly what stories Hughes used to tell his kids about me."

"Knowing him," Winry said. "They were probably cautionary tales."

* * *

_Author's Note: 7/1/2013 Finis! This one turned into much more of a 'shocking discoveries' research mission for Ed and Al. They've had quite a few of those over the years. Things don't always turn out the way folks expect, not even characters. ;) Perhaps especially not the teens. Rocky roads ahead. Definitely not the end of things. _

_New story next week! _


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